A Door in the Dark
by devonshire64
Summary: Famine, Flood, Disease, War. In a world on the brink a small community rallies around their 'touched' children. But is the Rapture at hand, or is there something more sinister at work?
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, hello, hello. Here it is, the fifth and final installment of the Shadow Stalker Series. _

_Also, this story is a present to Bambers for her big birthday :D. Happy Birthday B. _

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belongs to Eric Kripke and CW/WB. this is all just for fun. **

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 1

The motel room was dark and cold, as still and silent as the night around it. Shadows danced across the walls, shrouding the night in a heavy solitude. A stiff wind blew outside the small room, rattling the windows, like tiny fingers tapping on the cool glass. The battered curtains blew, snaking back and forth on the currents filtering through the aged glass. The furniture stood out ominously against the inky darkness of the room; the table, chairs and beds nothing more than shadows amid the black sea of night.

The heavy void was suddenly broken by a bright, blinding light. The headlamps of the Impala swung by the windows, casting an eerie glow across the empty motel room. The light remained for a few seconds before cutting out, the darkness once again taking hold, broken only by the muffled voices of the two men now approaching the room. The door burst open a second later, the room full of not only light, but laughter. Dean Winchester threw his jacket down on the bed, smiling as he made his way across the room, a barely noticeable limp slowing his strides.

"Oh come on, Sam, it was bionic strength."

"No part of you is bionic, Dean," Sam answered, closing the door behind him. "It was freaking stupid is what it was."

"Freaking stupid my ass. Winchesters one, bag guy, zero."

"Bad guy zero? So three trips into the wall doesn't count?"

"Like I said, Sammy, I'm the new Bionic Man."

"It's the Six Million Dollar man, you're thinking of the Bionic Woman."

"You're just jealous 'cause you haven't been rebuilt to be stronger than before." Dean smirked. "Besides, now I can run in slow motion." And with that, Dean did the 'Bionic Man' run into the bathroom, complete with the na-na-na-na sound effects.

Sam just shook his head, sinking down onto one of the beds when he heard the shower turn on. If he had it his way, he would have avoided the whole 'rebuilding Dean' part of the past year. But well, the past was the past, and Sam knew there was no way to go back and undo what the Asura had done to his brother. Even though his brother's knee replacement had eventually gone as planned, the entire incident was something the young hunter would rather forget. He'd nearly lost his brother, Dean facing death yet again because of something Sam had done.

Sam took a few deep breaths, pushing the growing memory from his mind. He could still picture the day as if it had just happened, his brother's lifeless body being pulled from the lake by Bobby while Sam had a showdown with his father. It was just another reminder of how screwed up everything was, and how far away from normal the Winchester family really was. But more than that, it was one of the last times he'd seen his father. To Sam's utter amazement and relief, John had done what he had asked, he'd turned his back, walked away.

Sam hadn't seen or heard from his dad since the older man had walked away from Dean's hospital room, the hunter turning his back on everything he'd been fighting for. And, for the first time, Sam wasn't angered by it. He knew his father meant well, knew he loved his family, but that same love and protectiveness was smothering, and Sam knew he and his brother needed to get away from it.

Dean, for his part, hadn't said much about it either way— he'd just done what Sam had expected, he ignored any and all emotion he should have felt. Sam had expected Dean to be upset, pissed that he'd thrown John out of their lives, but instead, Dean just shrugged it off, jumping head first into a hunt as soon as he was able to. And very little had changed in the months between now and then. It was like falling into the rut all over again— hunt, sleep, eat, repeat.

For the first time, though, Sam didn't mind it. He welcomed the monotony, welcomed the routine. He welcomed it all, because it meant he had his brother back, and that was a reality Sam wasn't sure he'd ever get to see again. So much had happened since Shadow Pine Highway, so much had changed, but now it was like coming full circle, and Sam could feel a weight lift from his shoulders. Their father was out who knew where again, and he and Dean were out on the open road— it was as normal a life as Sam knew he could ever ask for, and for the first time in a long time, he could say he was happy.

Yes, he still wished for a life with Jessica, prayed everyday to be the normal family with the white picket fence, to go to bed without a weapon beneath the pillow. But the past year had opened his eyes to what his life really was, and what he was in danger of losing. It wasn't a glamorous life, wasn't the type of life you'd read about, but for Sam Winchester it was as close to perfect as he knew he'd ever get.

Sam cracked his neck, a dull headache growing behind his eyes. They'd been happening a lot lately, well, a lot compared to the normal amount of migraines he suffered. There was something different about these headaches, though, and that made Sam weary. When they'd first started he thought they were visions, and a part of him had been relieved— as much as he hated the death visions he was forced to witness, any small reprieve, even if it was in the form of a not so killer headache was welcome. But now, just like then, the visions never came.

Sam smiled, shaking his head. He really was getting paranoid. Hell, most of the world had headaches for one reason or another, why did his always have to be supernatural. "Probably Dean related," Sam mumbled, his brother shouting out some bad hair band song from the bathroom.

Sam moved to the table, unwrapping the food they'd bought. He was starving, the last hunt, while nothing really all that backbreaking, had required them to sit out and wait for the better part of ten hours, and it wasn't really wise to take a coffee break during a hunt. Sam grabbed a handful of fries, shoving them in his mouth as he made for the fridge, pulling out a few beers. He smiled when he felt the headache ebb away, it must have been hunger related.

"Dude," Sam began when Dean finally emerged from the bathroom, "Long enough shower?"

"I wanted to make sure I used every ounce of hot water." Dean smirked, toweling off his hair, his tee-shirt and jeans still wet from the mist in the bathroom.

"Yeah well, any longer and I was gonna eat without you."

"You should have, I'm not all that hungry."

Sam's heart sank a little, his headache returning when, instead of going for the food, Dean grabbed the laptop and beer. Dean may have thought he was being subtle, but Sam could read him better than anyone. The older man hadn't eaten much since John left, hell, even before that. It was just another sign of the trouble the middle Winchester was going through. Dean acted like everything was ok, even better than it had been before Marshal Williamson, but Sam knew it wasn't true. Dean was hurting.

"How can you not be hungry?"

"It is physically possible, Sam."

"Whatever." Sam shook his head, shoving another handful of fries in his mouth. Dean may not have been hungry, but Sam felt like a man starving. "I just cleaned that up, too."

"Cleaned what up?"

"The laptop. So no downloading anything."

"Wow, what a vote of confidence. Did it ever occur to you that I'm researching?"

"No."

"Well I am."

"Researching what?"

"Hunts."

"Uh huh. Hunts that involve naked women?"

"Aw, my little brother's growing up. But no, hunts that involve bad guys."

"Dean," Sam began, his headache growing. Sam was afraid his brother would want to jump right back into a hunt. After all, that's all Dean had been doing. He barely ate, barely slept, all he did was hunt, and when he wasn't actively hunting, he was researching— an act that made Sam 'christo' his brother several times. After all, Dean doing research was a sure sign of the apocalypse.

"What, Sam?"

"I was thinking we could take a break."

"I've taken enough breaks."

"Oh yeah, 'cause multiple near death experiences count as vacations."

"It is what it is, Sam."

"Are you trying to run yourself into the ground?"

"Sam, I feel better than I have in a long time. Just let me hunt while I can."

"What's the supposed to mean?"

"My knee's not gonna last forever, Sam. Hell, the doctor told me ten years with all the activity I do."

"So?"

"So, I can tell you now, Sam, there's not gonna be some magical benefactor doling out money every time I need a new knee."

"Is that what this is all about?"

"Look, dad left, we both know why."

"He left because I told him to."

"Yeah right, and when has he ever listened to you?"

"Maybe he just came to his senses."

"What senses?"

"Look, Dean. A lot happened that day," Sam began, his dinner instantly forgotten. He hadn't told Dean about that day on the beach, not entirely. He'd told him of Marshal's death, of his near death, but never the whole story— and Sam was hoping he would never have to. But hindsight is twenty/ twenty, and Sam should have known Dean would have blamed himself.

"So you keep saying."

"So what hunt are you looking into?" Sam knew he was avoiding the truth, that Dean needed to know what his younger brother had done, but Sam just couldn't bring himself to tell the story, not yet. He was afraid of what he'd become, afraid of the power inside him, and he didn't want to see that same fear reflected in Dean's eyes. Sam needed Dean on his side, needed his big brother, and he didn't want anything to take that way from him.

Sam caught the slightest hint of something flash through his brother's eyes before Dean could hide it, the older man retreating back behind his well built walls. They were on the verge of crashing again, but for the life of him, Sam couldn't find a way to stop it.

"Something Bobby sent me. I don't really know what's going on."

"What's he say about it?"

"Same as me, weird crap, no real reason behind it."

"What's going on?"

"This town, New Eden, Mass is like a tourist's nightmare. Every year, a bunch disappear."

"So."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Here's the kicker, though. Some woman's daughter moved up there when she first got married, had kids, the whole deal. Well, apparently, she stopped speaking to her mother. The woman was worried and after a few years of fewer and fewer phone calls, she decided to make a surprise visit. And swears to anyone that'll listen that she saw her granddaughter."

"Again, so?"

"So, said granddaughter died a few years before that."

"This might not be anything supernatural, Dean. It could just be missing tourists and a family with issues."

"Yeah, but I told Bobby we'd check it out. I mean, we've looked into less."

"Alright."

Sam turned back to his dinner, though his hunger was completely gone. He knew what Bobby was trying to do, he'd spoken with the hunter countless times about it already. As much as Sam admired and appreciated Bobby, the seasoned hunter had been driving him crazy ever since Marshal Williamson. He'd been trying to get John back into their lives, trying to bring the small and shattered family back together, and Sam had repeatedly asked him to stop. Sam knew Bobby had good intentions, knew the older man had lost to the hunting world, but that didn't mean the rift between John, Sam and Dean could be fixed with a few hunts.

666666666666

The brothers settled into another silent night, the pair both drifting off to sleep with the tv on, their minds miles away from the small motel they were currently calling home. The Iblis looked on from the window, the shadowy demon studying the brothers, feeling their pain, and feeding their minds. It had lost to them once already, had been beaten, and it was certain that would never happen again.

It still couldn't believe it had lost to mere humans, had succumb to hunters. It was like a cat losing to a mouse— it was the type of thing that should never happen. Yes, they were the Winchesters, but that was just a name, it didn't make them anything more or less than human. Well, it didn't make John or Dean any less human; Sam, now he was a different story. The Iblis knew about Sam, knew the boy was different, and the day on the beach only solidified the truth. He was more than human, more than just another soldier. He was something that needed to be won, and if not, then he needed to be stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you all so much for the great, great reviews. i'm glad everyone enjoyed the first chappy :) enjoy this next installment. :) _

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 2

Bobby scrubbed his hands over his tired face— John Winchester was going to drive him to an early grave. He's lost track of the number of time's he'd called the other hunter, knowing John's voicemail was probably overflowing with the messages, but that didn't stop him from calling again. Sam and Dean needed their father, no matter what words had been spoken at the side of the lake. But then, if the Winchesters were one thing, it was stubborn, and Bobby knew bringing John back into his sons' lives was going to be hard— but he refused to believe it was impossible. Hell, he'd battled demons, werewolves and countless other beings, how could the toughest job he'd ever had be bringing together one shattered family?

Bobby had run across a hunt in Massachusetts he thought would be perfect. It didn't seem like anything overly taxing, hell, it was probably nothing supernatural at all, but it was a starting point. He'd given Dean the information, the young hunter calling him back not even twenty four hours later to tell him they were on the job. Bobby had then sent the same information to John, but lord only knew if the hunter had gotten it. If John showed up in New Eden, fine, if not, Bobby was certain the boys could handle whatever was there.

He let his thoughts drift back to Sam and Dean, wishing he could give the boys something more than information on a hunt. Those two deserved a hell of a lot more than they ever got. They were the youngest hunters Bobby had ever known, hell, probably the youngest anyone had known. They'd both entered the field as teenagers, having been trained since before they started school— they never stood a chance. Yes, Bobby's life was taken away from him, his future lost to the hunting world after he'd seen the darkness, but at least he'd lived first.

He'd married, he'd loved, he'd had the whole white picket fence people took for granted. He had those memories, those experiences— Sam and Dean hadn't even gotten a glimpse. They didn't have normal, and Bobby knew they never would. It wasn't until he'd met the Winchesters, that Bobby Singer learned just how cruel life could be. And now, nearly twenty years later, he was still trying to piece the family together. It wasn't right or fair by any means, but it was the way things were. And all Bobby knew he could do was try and keep Sam and Dean alive, because maybe, just maybe, those boys could win this war.

Bobby didn't believe in fate, didn't believe in destiny, but if he did, he'd have bet money that Sam and Dean were what the world had been waiting for. They were broken, yes, but even as broken men, they were stronger than anyone Bobby had met— even stronger than the great John Winchester. Everyone spoke of John as the answer to the coming storm, looked to John as a leader, but Bobby knew the real strength, the real leaders, were still children.

And now Sam had the power of an Asura inside him, a power Bobby knew the boy had begun to control, and that put things on a whole new level. Bobby would never go as far as to say he was afraid of the youngest Winchester, but he was definitely weary of the young man. Sam was different, there was no denying that, the Yellow Eyed Demon having done more than kill Mary— but just how different, that no one was certain of. Bobby only speculated the Demon had done something, but based on the other 'special' children, he was pretty sure his guess was right. And he was certain Dean knew it, too.

After all, Dean had raised the kid, how could he not know everything there was to know about Sam? He didn't know everything, Bobby told himself, his mind drifting back to that day on the beach, the day he'd pulled Dean's lifeless body from the lake. Dean hadn't seen his brother, hadn't seen the power the boy unleashed, and he was never told about it either. Sam had begged Bobby to keep his secret, made the older hunter promise not to tell Dean just how much of a 'freak' his little brother was. And, while Bobby told Sam it was nothing to hide, he agreed to keep the secret.

For how long, though, he didn't know. The Winchesters didn't do well with secrets, of that Bobby was certain. Secrets had a way of snowballing out of proportion, and in the world of hunters, secrets were deadly. But this was something that only effected Sam, surely this secret wasn't as bad as Bobby's gut told him it was.

Bobby was pulled from his thoughts by the phone, the hunter checking the ID before answering. "It's the middle of the night, Dean."

"Did I interrupt your beauty sleep?"

Bobby shook his head, he could almost hear the smirk. "You better learn to respect your elders, kid."

"I have nothing but respect for you, old man."

"What do you want?" Bobby answered curtly, though a smile grew across his face. The image of Dean laying dead in his hands was something that still gave him nightmares. And so, the sound of the young man's voice was nothing short of a gift.

"Just letting you know Sam and I finished up our last hunt and are gonna head to Mass tomorrow."

"Where are you now?"

"Uh, Oklahoma I think."

Bobby heard Sam's voice in the background, the young hunter grumbling something about it actually being Nebraska, but who cared.

"So, a couple days?" Bobby asked, knowing Dean would probably drive like a bat out of hell straight through.

The young hunter's knee replacement surgery had almost cost him his life, but the look on Dean's face when the doc finally told him he was able to drive was like a light at the end of the tunnel. And ever since then, Dean had driven, racing from one side of the country to the other like a kid who'd just been given his license.

"Give or take, I'll let you know."

"Sure thing." Bobby stayed on the line, knowing Dean didn't call just to tell him they were leaving in the morning. A few moments later, he knew the real reason for the late night call.

"So, have you heard from my dad?"

Bobby sighed, taking another swig of beer before answering. "No, Dean, sorry. That man's about as easy to find as Nessie."

"Oh, alright." Bobby could hear the disappointment in the young man's voice. "I'll let you know when we get there." And with that, the call was ended.

Bobby cursed, slamming the phone closed— he really needed to find John.

6666666666666

John Winchester didn't even glance at the caller ID before hitting the ignore button. He knew it was Bobby, and he knew what the other hunter wanted. Bobby had been trying to get him to talk to the boys for weeks now, but John knew it wasn't an option. He had no place in his children's lives anymore, so why pretend the opposite was true. John knew he'd screwed up, knew he'd lost, he didn't need to be reminded of it everyday. He wanted nothing more than to see his boys, but Sam had made it clear that was no longer an option.

Sam. John still couldn't believe the power the boy possessed, couldn't believe what his youngest had become. Yes, he was different because of the Yellow Eyed Demon, but now he was on another level entirely. He could use the Asura's power better than the Asura itself, and John knew the day at the lake was only scratching the surface of what the young hunter could do. Sam had been changing, slowly and steadily, ever since that ill-fated night in Shadow Pine Forest. And now, John was afraid Sam was no longer the child he'd raised, no longer one of Mary's boys.

Dean on the other hand, hadn't changed at all. Yes, he'd grown more subdued, but he was still the hunter John had trained, the man he'd raised. At least he hoped he was. Dean was more than broken after Marshal Williamson, the doctors spending days telling them they should say their goodbyes, that the chances were slim to none. But, if Dean was good at one thing, it was beating the odds. Hell, he'd been beating the odds since he was four years old.

John never told the boys of the children he'd tried to save when Yellow Eyes had made its return. The fires were set with no regards to the houses occupants and, John sighed, not everyone had made it out alive. Yes, the mothers were always killed, but not every child was an only child, and not all the siblings woke themselves up like Dean had. John was more aware than ever of the danger his family really faced that night— of the reality that, had Dean not met him in the hall, then he'd have also been lost. John barely had time to follow his children down the stairs, he knew he never would have been able to make it to Dean's room and back before the entire second floor was in flames.

John shook the thought from his head, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. The past was the past, and John knew there was nothing he could do to change it. He was alone now, without a family, and it was a reality he knew he was going to have to accept, even if Bobby Singer didn't.

John was happy of the other hunter's involvement, though. If he couldn't look after Sam and Dean, at least Bobby could. John knew the other hunter thought of the boys as his own children, knew the mechanic would do whatever he could to keep them safe, and that gave John a little peace of mind. At least his children weren't entirely alone. John had thought of having the boys tailed again, but every time the idea crossed his mind he thought of Joshua.

John had trusted him, given him access to his children, treated him like family, and Joshua had turned on them, hell, he'd nearly killed Dean with his own hand. John could still remember it like it was yesterday, the feel of the heavy air, the smell of the forest all coming back to him as though he were still there. He'd seen the look in Dean's eyes, had seen the fear, heard his scream, watched his blood flow from beneath the knife. And that day, John had been certain he was watching his son die. It wasn't the last time, either. Not even a year later Marshal Williamson had done the same thing— and once again, the powers of a demon had stopped him.

John couldn't even stomach the reality of the statement. Whether the second time was Sam's doing or not, Dean owed his life to a demon, and that was wrong on too many levels. John himself had failed Dean, his own son, on so many occasions, that now the young hunter owed his future, his life to demons, to the very things John spent the last two decades fighting.

John cursed when the phone rang again. Why the hell wouldn't Bobby just get the hint? John grabbed the phone, not bother to check the ID before flipping the phone open. "What?"

"Quite a greeting," an icy voice answered, John's heart racing as he pulled over.

"Who is this?"

"You're the hunter, figure it out."

"What do you want?"

"I want to help you."

"Yeah right. How'd you get this number?"

"Please, John," the voice continued, so cold it made the hairs on the back of John's neck stand on end. "Be a little creative."

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"I hear you miss your boys."

"You leave them out of this."

"No can do. You, I could leave out of it, Sam and Dean, not so much."

"Who are you?"

"I'm the voice at the back of your mind. I'm that whisper you hear when no one's around."

"And you needed to use the phone?"

"Let's just say you and your family are more stubborn than most. I tried to be subtle, John, but now I'm through playing games. We both know what Sam is."

"He's my son."

"Fool yourself all you want. Sam's fair game, and I'll tell you now, I'm not the only thing after him. But me, John, I'll let him live."

"I swear if you go anywhere near them—."

"You'll what, kill me? Do you even know where they are?"

John just punched the dash, gripping the phone tighter.

"I didn't think so. Sam's powerful, and after his little escapades at the warehouse, a lot of thing know it."

"So why involve me? You want them, try and get them."

"Tough words from a man that can't even find his own children. But, since I'm in the caring and sharing mood, I'll let you in on the secret. Nothing can find them."

"I trained them good."

"Don't belittle me with 'training'. It's nothing you did that's keeping them off the radar. Well, unless looking the other way while they were being an Asura's playthings counts. Sam's got them hidden, I want you to help me find them."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because, John, I'm not the worst thing out there looking for them. Sam doesn't know what he's doing, of that I'm pretty damn certain. So, once he stops it, everything's gonna descend on them. And I'll tell you now, Johnny, most wanna rip them limb from limb."

John closed his eyes, his heart beating out of his chest, blood running cold. He just wanted to give the boys a normal life, wanted to let them be, but now they could be in more danger than ever. He took several calming breaths, not letting the icy voice on the other end of the line get to him. He needed to figure out what was really going on.

"I'll make a few calls." John answered after a few minutes, hating himself for breaking his promise to Sam.

"Good. I'll be in touch, Johnny."

And with that, the line went dead.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello all. thank you so much once again for the great reviews, they really make my day :D enjoy!!_

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 3

"Dude, it's like suburban hell," Dean began, staring out the windows of the Impala. The place looked perfect, too perfect, and it sent chills up and down Dean's spine. Neighborhoods were a breeding ground for trouble.

"Over-reacting much?" Sam sighed, shifting in the seat. He apparently, didn't see the evil of 'house-farms'.

"There's no over-reacting, Sam. Places like this are never good."

"Places like this? You mean homes."

"Not homes, perfectly manicured, matching picket fences, cookie cutter weirdness."

"Do you know just how insane you are?"

"I'm gonna owe you such an I told you so. Just remember that so you don't mope about it later."

"Whatever. There's a motel just up the road, pull in there."

"Hell no."

"Hell no? What are you planning on doing, sleeping in the car?"

"No, I'm planning on getting something that's not in the smack middle of weird USA."

"What are you talking about, this is perfect. We're right where we need to be."

"Yeah, and at night the weird neighbors are gonna come eat our brains."

"Dean, quit being stupid."

"I'm not being stupid, I'm thinking ahead. You'll thank me for it later."

Dean drove past a few motels before he managed to find his way out of 'suburban hell'. It wasn't so much the neighborhood he was worried about, he just didn't feel like staying right in the middle of whatever they were there to hunt. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong in New Eden. He couldn't really explain the feeling because, hell, he wasn't even sure there was something worth hunting in the small town— it was just a nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach years of hunting had taught him to trust.

Dean pulled into the parking lot of a small, rundown motel on what must have been the outer limits of the city. The place looked like it had been forgotten a long time ago, the entire town around it falling into a state of disrepair. It was eerie to say the least because really, how did towns turn into ghost towns in this day and age.

"Man, I'm surprised a city as snooty as New Eden is next to a place like this," Dean began, climbing out of the car.

"Yeah, it is kind of an instant change," Sam added, looking back over a small river, the city of New Eden shining like a beacon not even a quarter of a mile away.

"See, I told you this place was creepy."

Sam just rolled his eyes, leaning against the car as Dean made his way to the office. Dean looked around the small office, taking in the dank and dreary appearance— it matched the town it was in perfectly.

"Excuse me," Dean called, realizing there wasn't a bell.

"What do you want?" An old man turned the corner, staring down Dean like he was trying to will the hunter away.

"Uh, a room. Two queens?"

The man just grumbled something, moving slowly down the counter to the keys. Dean stood in the office, what little patients he possessed wearing thinner and thinner as the man moved slower and slower. Dean peered at a few old tourist brochures, positive the places they advertised no longer existed— everything that surrounded New Eden seemed to be dead and gone. A newspaper caught Dean's eye, the hunter turning over the pages as the clerk came back up to the counter.

"You get New Eden's paper?" Dean asked, curious to see the name of the other town scrolled across the top.

"This is New Eden. At least, it used to be."

"So what, the whole town just packed up and moved?"

"Was a ghost town, no one wanted to be here afterwards. Never thought anyone'd come back. But they did. Rebuilt over the river."

"So, that's New New Eden." Dean smirked, the smile dying on his lips as the other man just stared at him. "Never mind. So, what happened to make them leave?"

"You don't wanna know boy. Things that bad, they taint a place, destroy it. Don't know how it came back, but whatever's going on, it ain't good. Room eight, 'round the corner in back." And with that, the man turned and left.

"I'm telling you Sam, yoda runs this place," Dean began the moment he made it to the Impala, signaling Sam to climb in.

"What?"

"Apparently, this crap hole is New Eden."

"Then what did we drive through?"

"New New Eden."

"The guy in there didn't laugh either, I take it."

"Whatever." Dean mumbled, pulling the car around the back of the motel. "According to Mr. Cryptic, this place has some serious bad mojo, a few years ago everyone up and left. The guy said places like this were tainted, he still can't believe the other city's thriving."

"He could just be a crazy old guy, Dean."

"Yeah, or he could know the dark secrets of suburban hell."

"You just can't be normal, can you?"

"Nope."

"Look, Dean, I researched this place to death, nothing happened here."

"How far back did you go?"

"Uh, like ten years. A big old nothing on the radar."

"Well, this place looks like it's been abandoned for at least that long."

"See," Sam began, shifting in his seat. He was starting to put things into place, Dean could see it in his eyes. "I never found anything about the city being rebuilt."

"That'd be pretty major news, Sam."

"I know, but there's still nothing on it."

"So, go back further than ten years and see what you get."

"I'll need a library for that, I only went back ten years cause that's all I could do on the internet."

"So we gotta go to suburban hell?"

"Unless this crap city has a library, I'd say yes."

"Why do I feel like I'm walking into a horror movie."

" 'cause you're insane and you think something's wrong with the American dream."

"What American dream, Sam. Happy little lives with husbands at work and wives vacuuming with pearls on? That's not real, it never will be."

"I'm not saying you gotta be like a sixties sitcom. I'm just saying normal doesn't mean deadly."

"You know as well as I do that's not true. Places where everyone's happy, where all the lawns and houses and freaking dogs look the same. It's not normal, Sam, it's not right. Life's supposed to be—."

"Supposed to be what? Dangerous, unpredictable?"

"It's supposed to be lived, Sam."

"And people in suburbia aren't living?"

"All I'm saying is that everyone's different, and when people start acting exactly the same, weird crap's going on."

"I can't believe we're even having this conversation."

"Why, we've had weirder ones. Remember last week—."

"Don't even start, I just got that out of my head."

Dean just smirked, settling back against the bed, flipping on the tv as Sam powered up the laptop. Dean didn't pay attention to the screen, though, his mind was too deep into the hunt already. Something was definitely wrong here, something way beyond missing tourists and visions of dead children. No, this hunt was on a whole different level, Dean could feel it.

But, despite his attentiveness to the hunt, his mind still drifted to an even darker place. His dad. Dean had never felt like more of a failure. Yes, his dad had left before, but that was different, then he was hunting, trying to keep them safe— this time, he just left, and Dean had no idea why. He thought things had been going better, and he'd dared to let himself believe his family was back. But, he knew it was all too good to be true, things didn't come back to Dean Winchester, they left.

"That's weird." Sam's voice broke Dean from his thoughts.

"What's weird?"

"Well, according to the US census, the town of New Eden has always been on the west side of the river."

"So?"

"So, we're on the east side right now."

"Should we go fight some greasers then?"

"Do you mind?"

"Whatever, princess. So, according to Uncle Sam, this place doesn't exist?"

"Basically, yeah."

"Gotta hand it to Bobby, he sure can pick 'um."

"Tell me about it."

"So, the guy said something tainted this place, any ideas?"

"Whatever it was, it had to be something bad. I mean, it's a proven fact that terrible tragedies can damage a place just as bad as anything supernatural."

"So, it could be anything from a door to hell to a broke heart?"

"More than a broken heart. To have a place 'tainted' it's gotta either be some serious demon activity, witchcraft, or an epic tragedy."

"Well, since New Eden's never been ear marked by dad, and Bobby didn't seem to have any clue, I'd say no demons or witches."

"Yeah, cause it would have been pretty well noticed when it happened."

"So that leaves tragedy."

"Yeah. But I can't find anything about it."

"That doesn't mean it didn't happen. Not everyone's a boy scout like you, Sammy. Most tragedies are someone's fault, and something bad enough to destroy a whole town's gonna get buried."

"Probably why what used to be New Eden's been wiped off the map."

"See, that's what's got me confused. A tragedy would pretty much contaminate a huge area. So why'd another town get built so soon afterwards. And a place too cookie cutter perfect at that."

"I don't know. 'cause based on all the research New New Eden shouldn't be there."

"And yet, it is."

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The Iblis was sickened with itself. It had finally found Sam and Dean, the youngest Winchester letting his guard down just long enough to be tracked— and then, they were gone again. It just solidified the fact that the boy had no idea what he was doing. When things were going well, the boys were easy to find, but the moment Sam felt like he needed to protect his brother, the second the defenses went up, they were gone, dropped off the face of the earth. And apparently, Sam was worried about Dean, because they'd vanished two days prior and had yet to surface.

And, in a moment of desperation, the Iblis had contacted John. It was telling the truth, though, others were after Sam. Ever since the day at the lake, the supernatural world knew the full extent of Sam's powers, and just what that meant to the war. Some wanted to side with him, follow him, let him lead. Some wanted to destroy him, kill the competition as soon as possible. And others, like the Iblis, wanted to use him.

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Bobby cursed, slamming the cell phone closed. The last time he'd heard from Sam and Dean they'd been an hour out of New Eden— and since then, he hadn't heard a word. It was like they'd fallen into some kind of black hole, and he was getting more than a little frustrated. At first he hadn't been too worried, cell phones weren't always the most reliable things, but after several unconnected calls, his concern grew. Every time he tried to call, he was told by an overly peppy recording that the user was out of range, but how could they be out of range in the middle of a city the size of New Eden.

And then, an icy thought entered Bobby's mind. While he'd called the actual city of New Eden once or twice while researching, he'd called a landline, now, he was trying to call a cell phone, and it was more than obvious they didn't work. Something wasn't right about this hunt, Bobby could feel it in his bones, and he'd sent to boys right into the middle of it all.

Bobby was pulled from his thoughts by the phone, his blood pressure shooting up when he saw the name on the screen.

"You've got some timing, John." Bobby sighed, he really didn't have time to deal with John Winchester, especially after he'd lost the man's kids.

"Bobby, I need to know where the boys are."

'Damn,' Bobby thought, his luck was starting to get as bad as the Winchesters'. "I thought Sam asked you to give them some space?" Bobby asked. Something wasn't right.

"You've been calling me for weeks about seeing them, now you won't tell me where they are?"

"I'm just saying, the change of heart's a little out of the blue."

"I got a call."

"From who?"

"I don't know. But something's after the boys."

"Let me get this straight. You're trusting someone you don't know to tell you about the boys?"

"I know what I'm doing, Bobby."

"I highly doubt that."

"Just let me know where they are."

"I don't know." Bobby lied. He didn't know why he didn't want to give the information to John, he just knew he needed to keep quiet and play his cards well.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not. I spoke to them a few days ago, but I don't know where they were."

"You can't give them a call?" John asked sarcastically.

"No I can't I'm not their father."

"They won't answer for me."

"Well, Johnny, they won't answer for me, either."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't get through, haven't been able to in a little while."

"Damn it, Bobby. All I ask for is one month with no freaking disasters."

"Good luck with that. Look, John, head here, we'll figure out a game plan together."

"Yeah, alright. I should be there in about a day."

Bobby disconnected the call, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He just hoped he hadn't sent Sam and Dean to their graves.


	4. Chapter 4

_hello once again. thank you all for the awesome reviews, they really make my day. enjoy the next chapter :)_

**warning: this chapter has some dark themes. Nothing that wouldnt be shown on TV, but still not for everyone. **

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 4

Sam closed his eyes, praying for patients. As he had suspected, the town of Old New Eden, as Dean had dubbed it, didn't have its own public library. Well, it did, but it hadn't been opened since whatever disaster befell the city had closed it. So now they were back in suburban hell, and after two hours of solid research, Dean was climbing the walls. Sam knew his brother didn't do research, but still, the older man could usually last longer than two hours. Well, that may have been an exaggeration, but Sam couldn't shake the feeling something was still very off with the town of New Eden.

Dean's earlier assessment of the town was proving truer than Sam would have liked. Everyone they met was chipper, too chipper, it was weird. But, what was even stranger was the utter lack of children. He understood school was in session, but still, there were no babies, no toddlers, no one under the age of about thirty. It was like whatever children the community had were being hidden away, and Sam wanted to know why. There was more going on than missing tourists, of that Sam was certain, and he had a sinking feeling he and his brother had just walked into the middle of something big.

"Find anything?" Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes as he looked up from the microfiche.

"No, you?"

"Nope. As far as the rest of the world's concerned, the town of New Eden has always been on the west side of the river."

"Maybe the clerk was just crazy." Sam sighed when Dean just shot him a look. "Yeah, when is it ever simple for us."

"Something's up, Sammy, you can't tell me this place is normal."

"Apart from your freakish fear of suburbs, you're right, something's up."

"Say it again."

"Say what again, something's up?"

"No, the part before that."

"You were right?"

"Yeah, I could listen to those three words all day."

"Jerk."

"Bitch. So, we're pretty much still at square one. Do you think asking the town will help?"

"Oh, you mean the town's residents that waved way worse than any pageant contestant then turned tail and ran?"

"Yeah, I didn't think they'd be much help either."

"Face it, Dean, we're not getting anything from the Stepfords."

"You think anyone other than the clerk is still left in Old New Eden?"

"I doubt it, but that's another thing that's bugging me."

"What?"

"Why is that motel still open if the rest of the town's gone?"

"You think maybe the old guy knows more than he's letting on?"

"That would be my guess. I mean, something so bad happened that the entire town was abandoned except for his place."

"But that still doesn't have anything to do with New New Eden. I mean, that guy said flat out he couldn't believe the new town was there."

"I know, but maybe once we find out what happened to the old town, finding out what's up with the new town will be easier. I mean, all the disappearances and everything started happening right around the time New New Eden would have been built."

"So suburban hell's got some pretty major secrets."

"Yeah, and if you learn them, it looks like you die."

"Or get assimilated."

"It's not The Borg, Dean."

"Might as well be," Dean mumbled, sinking down when he saw the librarian making a beeline for them.

"Are you boys still alright? You've been here a while."

"Yeah," Sam answered, Dean thankfully staying quiet. They needed to tread lightly, Sam could feel it. "We're just doing some research."

"Well, maybe you could tell me what you're looking for and I'll point you in the right direction."

"We're doing a local history, and from what I heard, the town used to be on the other side of the river, we're just looking for some information on that."

The librarian's eyes darkened, a look crossing her face so fast Sam almost missed it— almost. "I'm afraid someone gave you bad information, dear, I've lived here all my life, the town's always been to the west. The library is closing shortly, though, I'm afraid you're going to have to start wrapping it up."

"It's two in the afternoon." Dean spoke up, earning a stern glare from the librarian.

Sam's senses instantly kicked in, a light breeze filtering through the room, rustling the papers and books laying across the desks. The librarian looked around, obviously startled by the breeze, since every window in the place was apparently closed. Sam took a deep breath when he saw his brother stir, the older man obviously knowing exactly what was going on. He'd gotten better at controlling it, he really had, but he still couldn't help the spikes, spikes that only seemed to happen whenever Dean was in trouble. Sam didn't try to stop them, though, as his brother and Bobby had suggested. No, Sam finally had a way of protecting Dean, of giving something back, and he wasn't about to lose it.

"It's ok." Dean began, turning toward the librarian. "We were just about finished. When will the library open again?"

"Not for a few days, I'm afraid. Now, you boys don't need to worry about cleaning up, I'll take care of it."

66666666666

"Well that was less than subtle," Dean began, shoving his hands in his pockets as they made their way to the Impala.

"You're telling me. By the way, don't piss off the possibly killer locals."

"Aw, Sammy, you do care."

"Just don't, alright."

"Yeah, alright. What was with the freaky mind powers, anyway?"

Sam sighed, "I don't know, it just kind of happened."

"You gotta stop it. You gotta fight it."

"I am."

"Are you? Sam, look at me." Dean stopped, turning to his brother in the nearly vacant street. "This power, it isn't good. I don't know what went down at the lake, but it wasn't your fault. It's a demon's power, Sam, you gotta fight it."

"What makes you think I'm not?"

"I've been watching you. You're controlling it, but you're still using it. I mean, a cop just up and smiling instead of giving me a ticket last week, a bar full of angry bikers telling me to have a nice day after I took their money. Tell me I'm wrong."

Sam was caught. He wasn't doing it on purpose, not at first anyway. But as time went on he noticed it more and more. Whenever Dean was in trouble, he could 'persuade' people to let it go. He didn't know if it was the Asura, his psychic abilities, or a mixture of the two, all he knew was it was useful.

"I'm waiting, Sam."

"I'm gonna poke around here, see if maybe some kids show up after school let's out. Why don't you head over and see if we missed anybody in the ghost town."

"This isn't something you can just walk away from."

"Meet me back here in three hours."

"Whatever, man. Just, be careful, don't let them eat your brains."

"I'll be fine, Dean." Sam watched Dean walk away, his heart still aching when he saw the limp. It was a constant reminder of what the Asura had done, of what their lives had become on that fateful day. Nothing was the same, and Sam knew now that it never would be.

66666666666666

Dean drove in silence over the bridge, his mind miles away from New Eden. Saying things were different was the understatement of the century. Things were so far off Dean couldn't even find a word for it. The hunts were serving as a temporary distraction, but it was at times like these that Dean had a moment to stop and think. Sam had changed, it was more than obvious, and Dean just couldn't figure out what to do. His little brother had been tuning him out more and more often, the younger man blocking Dean at every turn.

He knew the powers made Sam feel like he was in control, knew it gave the younger man a way to fight, but it was still a demon's powers, and Dean knew it had to be stopped. He'd been searching for a way to free his brother of the Asura's grip, a way to break the young hunter free of what was slowly killing him. Because Dean knew, without a doubt, that the Asura's powers were taking Sammy away from him, bit by bit.

Sam was quieter, darker, more withdrawn, and it scared Dean to death. All his life he'd fought to protect him, sacrificed to keep him safe, and now he was standing right beside Sam, and unable to do a damn thing to save him. It was all so messed up, and Dean could feel it taking its toll. He'd lost too much in his short life, had been forced to say goodbye to too many people, and Dean would lay down and die before he let the darkness take Sam. His brother was his job, his purpose, all he had in the world, and come hell or high water, Sam was gonna make it through the darkness. It was all Dean could think about, the only thing driving him, he didn't care if he lived or died, all he could focus on was saving Sam.

He slowed the car at the end of the bridge, taking what looked like it had once been the main road through New Eden. The place looked like it had been deserted overnight, signs proclaiming the 'Harvest Parade' still handing lopsided over the street, the banners torn and tattered by the passage of time.

"October 22nd, 1994." Dean read allowed as he drove by. "Fourteen years— almost to the day. Damn." Dean continued around the city, taking in the desolation of old New Eden. He let his mind wander as he drove, the vacant store fronts pulling him away from the here and now. New Eden was like everything in his life— cold, empty, dead.

Dean pulled to a stop on one of the side streets, the lamp posts still decorated with now rotted and moldy corn stalks, the pumpkins that once circled the base nothing but a few scattered seeds. The hunter pulled his jacket closer when he got out of the car, the air in the old town heavier and colder than it had been on the other side of the river. It was like the very ground beneath his feet was poisoned, the stench of death and loss hanging heavy in the stale air. Something big had definitely gone down.

A chill ran up and down Dean's spine as he walked down the street, almost like he was walking on one large grave. Old New Eden was a forsaken place, Dean could feel it in his bones, and every instinct told him to get the hell out. But he needed answers, needed to know what was going on, and he needed to stop it. He had felt out of control lately, like the world around him was spinning, falling into a dark void he couldn't escape from. All he knew was fading, drifting away, and he found it impossible to hold on.

This was more than just a hunt to him, more than just another job. Dean felt drawn to the town, like something was calling to him, begging for release. He didn't know if it was just his lack of control with Sam or something else, all he knew was he couldn't leave this place, couldn't walk away until he knew the truth.

He turned a corner, pulling his collar up against a cold wind. The air around him was raw, its cold grasp reaching for him, wrapping around him, chilling him. If he didn't know any better, he would say he was back in Shadow Pine Forest, back with the Asura. It was the same heavy feeling, the same freezing existence, and it only reenforced the young hunter's resolve.

The winds picked up when he walked past a large warehouse, a vacant school yard coming into view beyond the large structure. "Damn," Dean whispered, the scene before him completely unexpected.

It was the small town's school, or at least, that's what it used to be. Dean felt his stomach turn as he walked up the the old fence— faded ribbons and moldy stuffed animals were tied to the metal, long dead flowers lining the cracked sidewalk, pictures filling the spaces between. This, this was what destroyed the town of New Eden.

The playground equipment was scorched and melted, sliding boards laying on their sides, swings swaying in the breeze, like ghostly children were at play. The building itself was little more than rubble, black soot and burn marks standing out against the remaining red brick. Dean gripped the fence, steadying himself as his legs went weak. He'd been hunting for most of his life, but nothing prepared him for the scene before him. This wasn't the work of a demon, wasn't the work of ghosts, it was the work of forces Dean could not control. And one look at the destroyed building told Dean all he needed to know— no one inside would have survived. The entire town of New Eden had lost their children, and that amount of death, that deep a tragedy, had destroyed it.

And Dean couldn't begin to imagine what type of dark magic healed such a terrible wound.


	5. Chapter 5

_hello everyone. thank you so, so much for all the great reviews, they're awesome!! i wanted to get this next chapter up before i went away for the week... enjoy!!_

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 5

Sam leaned back against the brick wall, a cool breeze blowing down the shadowed alley. His brother was late. Sam had told him three hours, but Dean was still absent. The young hunter sighed, Dean had been reluctant to leave him behind in the first place, so the fact that he was now late was more than a little worrying. The longer he poked around New New Eden, the more uneasy Sam got— something was going on in the small town, he could feel it. School should have let out several hours earlier, but still, there were no children. He knew one of the reports was of a woman seeing her dead granddaughter, but at this time, Sam didn't see how that was possible. Dead or not, there were no kids.

"I haven't seen you before."

Sam opened his eyes at the voice, turning his head to the small girl next to him. Maybe he was wrong. "I'm not from around here."

"Oh," the little girl answered, still seeming confused.

"You don't see a lot of strangers?" Sam smiled at the child, trying not to scare her away.

"No, I know everyone here."

"What about people that don't live here?"

"There aren't any."

"Nobody ever comes to visit?" Sam asked, finding the girl before him more than a little strange. Sam had a sinking suspicion that whatever was going on in the town was centered around the children.

"No."

"Maybe they do and you just don't see them," Sam reasoned. After all, the kids of the city did seem to be incredibly sheltered.

"No, I don't think so."

There was something off about the kid, something Sam couldn't quite place. He'd met weird kids before, but the brunette before him was on a whole new level. If he had to describe it, he'd say she seemed older, wiser, not the wide eyed innocent child she should have been. And Sam couldn't stop images of 'Children of the Corn' from running through his head.

She stood there for several long minutes, studying him. To say he felt uncomfortable under the icy glare was an understatement, but Sam refused to let himself be intimidated by someone not even half his size. "My name's Rebecca."

"Nice to meet you. Where's you're mom?" Sam continued the conversation, happy he'd finally found one of the town's elusive kids— though he did find it strange that the child was wandering around alone.

"She's fine," Rebecca answered absently, her blue-green eyes still studying him like he was some kind of specimen.

"You shouldn't wander away from her."

Rebecca smiled at Sam's words, obviously amused at his attempt to reprimand her. She didn't seem to worry about her mother one bit, all her focus was on Sam. "I like you."

"Thanks," Sam answered awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other, his unease growing with each passing second. As if in answer to his thoughts, Sam heard the deep growl of the Impala, the low rumbling of the stereo announcing his brother's late, but welcome, arrival. "I have to go," he began, turning his eyes toward the road.

"Ok, talk to you later, Sam."

Sam's head snapped back around when he heard his name, knowing he hadn't said it to the little girl. But, instead of watching the child run to the stores at the other end of the alley, he was met with a dark and empty street.

"Dude, have you been standing in the same spot the whole time?" Dean chided, making Sam jump.

"Damn it, Dean, don't do that."

"Do what, talk to you. You alright?" Dean sobered instantly, his eyes taking in his brother's haggard appearance.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Sure you are."

"You find anything?" Sam shrugged away from Dean, moving back toward the Impala. He wanted to get out of New New Eden and fast. There hadn't been any children, not even a mention of them, and then one had come out of the woodwork, and had known his name. It was more than a little unnerving.

"Yeah." Dean's gaze grew distant, his shoulders slumping slighting as he slid into the driver's seat. Apparently, Dean had been shaken by the past three hours as well. "I figured out what destroyed the city."

"What?" Sam asked, watching the store fronts slip by the window, the sun beginning to set as they made their way toward the bridge.

"I'll tell you when we get back to the motel. There's a pizza place up on the corner, let's get something to eat."

"Dean, what happened?" There weren't many things that could silence his brother, the older man having seen far more than most people in his short life. So, for Dean to clam up so completely meant that this was something big.

"The school exploded."

"Huh?" It wasn't anything Sam was expecting.

"I'll explain later." Dean cut in, turning into the parking lot of a small pizza parlor.

Thirty minutes later the boys were settled in their motel room, a few slices of pizza and beer already split between them. Dean had been quiet ever since leaving the parlor, his mood growing darker and darker as they entered the ghost town they were currently staying in. Sam should have known this hunt would effect his brother. Dean was overly protective around children, they were one of his weaknesses. So, the fact that something was happening because of a town's dead children was bound to have a profound effect on the older man. But still, Sam needed to know what Dean had learned.

"So, how'd you find out about the school?"

"I saw it."

"It's still there?" Sam couldn't believe a town would leave something like that intact. Unless of course, New Eden had vanished soon afterwards.

"Yup, along with the kids' pictures, ribbons, dolls, toys. There's a whole freaking shrine there, Sammy."

"You think they still visit the school?"

"No. No one's been there in a long time. It was weird, Sam, hell this whole freaking town is weird."

"Do you know when it happened?"

"Yeah, I found some old newspapers still in the machines. The school exploded on October 17th, 1994."

"Fourteen years."

"Almost to the day. The whole place is still decorated for the Harvest Parade."

"That's this weekend."

"Come again?"

"The Harvest Parade, it's a few days from now, I saw a banner for it."

"They still do it?" Dean asked, and Sam could hear a trace of disbelief in his voice. After all, the school had exploded only a few days before the event, surely it wouldn't still be celebrated.

"Apparently. How'd the school explode?"

"Chemicals mixing in the boiler room they think, someone lit a match, it wasn't too straight forward."

"But it was an accident?"

"Yeah, definitely an accident. Nothing supernatural or malicious about it."

"What grades?" Sam hadn't asked before hand, hadn't wanted to know. It was obvious from what Dean was describing that the entire building was destroyed, no one would have survived.

"All of them."

"Dean?"

"A town this small, they didn't separate the schools. The little kids were on the ground floor, middle school on the second, and high school on the third."

"Oh my god."

"Yeah. Hell, there was even a pre-school class."

Sam could feel his heart beating painfully in his chest. Entire families were wiped out, destroyed in a few short moments, all because of a simple accident. It was something Sam was having trouble comprehending. They could fight off the supernatural, fight the evil of the world, but how do you protect yourself from a mistake?

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John Winchester cursed, slamming his fist down on the table. He'd been at Bobby's for hours, and was still no closer to figuring out what was after the boys. The cryptic phone call was still weighting on his heart— the demonic forces of the world were after his children, after Sam, and John couldn't do a damn thing about it. Hell, at the moment, he couldn't even talk to his own kids. He'd been calling their cells repeatedly, leaving message after message, but it didn't do any good. It was like Minnesota all over again. The last time he was unable to get in touch with his boys, Dean had nearly died, and Sam, Sam had turned into something he didn't know any more.

John could feel all his mistakes adding up, each and every wrong turn he'd taken in his life coming back to haunt him. There were so many things he should have done differently, so many things he wished he could go back and change. Hell, if he'd just stayed in bed instead of watching tv that long ago night, then Mary would still be alive. John dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, pushing the memory away, focusing instead on the present. The old saying was true; two wrongs don't make a right. But John had so many wrongs, so many mistakes, and now, he was facing the culmination of them all.

Sam and Dean were prey, dark forces hunting them, and John had been excommunicated. Yeah, his life was turning out wonderful.

"Beatin' up my dinning room table isn't gonna help them," Bobby began, looking up from the book in front of him.

John was grateful for Bobby. The man had picked up the slack for him more times than John cared to count, stepping in as a father figure for the boys when he himself was either unable or unwilling. It was above and beyond the call of duty, and John was thankful he had such friends in his life. He'd been betrayed by the hunting community, Joshua selling out his sons for his own piece of mind. John had let his guard down, let himself fall into a false sense of security, and his boys had been the ones to pay the price.

"Are you sure they actually made it to New Eden, Bobby?" John asked, the events of Shadow Pine Highway at the forefront of his mind. Everything going on now, all that had befallen the boys, had happened on their way to a hunt.

"No, they were an hour out, though, so I would assume they're there."

"Yeah, well, I assumed the boys were safely on their way to Seattle, too."

"That was a preset trap, John."

"Maybe this is, too. I mean, whoever or whatever contacted me said the boys were being hunted."

"I'm the one that found this hunt, though, so unless you're insinuating that I'm sending them to their death, I'd say they made it there just fine."

"And the hunt wasn't anything big?"

"I didn't think it was. Now that I can't call them, I'm not so sure."

"What was your theory?"

"Cult maybe. People going missing, spirits turning up, could be the town's using dark magic to get its dearly departed back."

"What do you know about New Eden?"

"No much, no real history at all, it's like the Stepford Wives."

"Oh yeah, that's normal."

"No every town's full of demonic baddies, John."

"They are when your last name is Winchester."

"I say we just go to New Eden, Johnny."

John looked up, Bobby eyeing him from across the table. It wasn't the first time the mechanic had suggested following the boys, and even though every shred of his being wanted to do just that, John had still made a promise. Sam told him to stay away, fought against him, nearly killing him when Dean was in danger— and John Winchester had gotten the message. He'd made his final mistake, used up more second chances than he deserved, he couldn't follow the boys.

"No, we gotta do what we can from here."

"Damn it, John. Could you swallow your pride, just this once."

"It's got nothing to do with pride, I promised Sam."

"You promised Sam a lot of things, and this is the one you're gonna keep. Come on, John, the kid wasn't even in his right mind when he told you to stay away."

"He was in his right mind, Bobby. I'm sure of it."

"Oh yeah, 'cause his right mind is almost killing you with psychic powers. That's bull."

"Either way, I don't wanna lead whatever's following them right to their door."

"You think we're being played?"

"Oh yeah."

"We gotta get in touch with them."

"Have you tried email?"

"Yeah, it's just bounced back as undeliverable."

"Damn it."

"We'll find them, John. Besides, if Sam's as powerful as everyone's saying he is, I'm sure they can handle themselves."

John looked across the table at his friend, the weight of the world falling on his shoulders. He couldn't let them down again, couldn't make them suffer because of his mistakes. He'd never felt so helpless, so lost. If he followed the boys he would not only be breaking a promise to Sam, but leading whatever had called him right to the boys, offering them up on a silver platter. No, he had to find a way to help them from a distance, to keep them flying beneath the radar as they had been.

And suddenly, the thought of Sam's powers flooded his mind. All this time, they'd been trying to fight them, trying to suppress them, even though John knew they had potential. Yes, the powers had been those of a demon, but now they were Sam's, surely that made a difference. Sam had turned into a type of shield, among other things, and it was something they could all benefit from. They could hunt under cover, finally have the upper hand— that was, if he and Bobby made it to Sam before something else did.


	6. Chapter 6

_first of all, sorry, sorry, sorry for the long wait. first i was away, then sick, then just good old fashion writer's block :( thank you all so, so much for the great reviews, they really make my day. enjoy the next chapter :)_

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 6

"So," Dean began wearily, "you found one of the kids?"

"More like she found me." Sam mumbled, washing down a few bites of pizza with some beer. "Creepy kid."

"Did 'creepy kid' happen to have a name?"

"Rebecca."

"Rebecca what?"

"I don't know. But, Dean, she knew who I was."

"What do you mean, she knew who you were?" Dean asked, leaning forward. It was never a good thing when the bad guys knew you without introductions.

"I didn't tell her my name, but she still called me Sam."

"Maybe she overheard us or something."

"Yeah, maybe."

Dean knew his brother didn't buy the story anymore than he did. Everywhere they went supernatural beings were drawn to Sam, and Dean wanted to find a way to stop it. Sam had wanted a normal life more than anyone Dean knew, but there were always too many obstacles in their way. And suddenly, for about the hundredth time that day, Dean wanted to call his father.

He needed help, needed another set of eyes watching out for Sam. But, more importantly, he needed his father there. It wasn't that he was weak, wasn't that he couldn't take care of Sam, Dean just needed him there— there was no other way to explain it. But John had turned his back on them, had walked away, washing his hands of the mess that was his eldest son— and Dean knew it was a line he couldn't cross.

"So what, you think it was a spirit?" Dean asked, taking another bite of pizza, pushing away the thought of his father.

"I don't know, maybe. It seemed different, though. I mean, I swear it was a real kid."

"Maybe it was, maybe she was just weird."

"We need to do more research." Sam began, scrubbing his face. Dean had to smirk, even geeks got sick of researching once in a while.

"I don't think the librarian's gonna let us back in there."

"That's putting it mildly." Sam sighed, leaning back against the bed.

Dean eyed his brother, taking in the younger man's haggard appearance. Sam was tired, Dean could see it in his eyes. Something was draining him, pulling energy away from him, and it had Dean on alert. The last thing he needed was Sam out of commission. It was something he'd been noticing more and more often lately. Sam was drained, like he'd run a marathon, and Dean couldn't help but worry.

And suddenly, Dean felt the weight on his shoulders growing. They couldn't catch a break, couldn't find reprieve. It was like being caught in a rip tide, constantly swimming against the current but not getting any closer to shore. Dean needed a lifeline, needed someone to pull him back, but he knew now that that wouldn't happen. He had to be strong enough to save not only himself but his brother. So much had happened to Sam over the past year, so many wrongs Dean had to fix.

He'd been possessed by an Asura for five month, and then the demon had forced him to attack his own brother, had forced him out into the cold Montana winter in nothing but a tee shirt and jeans— and that was only what Dean knew. Sam still refused to speak about his time with the Asura, refused to let his brother know what the thing had said and done to him, what had forced Sam to slice open his own arm in order to destroy the demon.

Sam constantly told Dean not to blame himself, to let the past be the past, but the older man knew it was all his fault. He'd been the one to take the shortcut to being with, the one to blindly trust Joshua, the one to hand his brother over to the demon to begin with. The entire nightmare had started with a turn down a deserted mountain road, and Dean wasn't sure were it all would end.

"So, you up for breaking into Old New Eden's library?" Dean began after a long silence. He needed normal back, well Winchester normal. He couldn't continue on in the alien world that had surrounded them since Shadow Pine Highway, couldn't survive in the broken existence he was currently calling life. He needed to fix this, and for reasons he couldn't explain, he felt that maybe, just maybe, New Eden would hold the answers.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Come on, Sammy, what's a hunt without a little breaking and entering." Dean wiggled his eyebrows, stuffing the last bit of pizza in his mouth as he pushed off the bed.

"We're going now?"

"Why wait, nighttime's a burning."

"Dean, the town's deserted, no one's gonna know we're breaking in. Why can't we wait till daylight?"

"Famous last words."

"Dean."

"Sam, I have a weird feeling about this. The sooner we get it over with, the better."

"Do you really think they'll have what we need there?" Sam sighed, pulling on his own boots.

"Doesn't hurt to look."

"Maybe we should call Bobby, get him researching from the outside."

"Outside research has been kind of lacking lately, Sammy. But it doesn't hurt to check in." Dean added, heading out the door. He was grateful for Sam's suggestion. He needed someone to fall back on, someone to keep him standing, and he was glad Bobby was there.

Dean followed Sam to the Impala, the younger man pulling out his phone as Dean started the engine. He didn't know why, but he could feel a terrible sense of foreboding growing inside him. Something was changing, Dean could feel it in the air around him. He didn't know what was causing it, but it was like a weight suddenly bearing down on him. It was more than the normal stress of a hunt, more than the growing trepidation he was feeling over the Asura, more than a little girl knowing his brother's name. It was something big, but what exactly it was, Dean couldn't explain.

Sam's frown caught Dean's attention, his brother glancing at him as he held the phone to his ear. "What?" Dean asked.

"He's not answering."

"Jeez, Sam, give a guy a heart attack. Maybe he just can't get it."

"I don't now, Dean."

"Just leave a message."

"The voicemail isn't picking up, either."

"Maybe he's talking to someone."

"Nah, it would have picked up by now." Sam mumbled, ending the call, but not closing the phone.

"Who're you calling now?"

"Missouri."

"Why?"

"'Cause I wanna test a theory."

"I'm sure she'll be happy with you testing a theory in the middle of the night."

"She's in Kansas, it's earlier there."

"Thank you, Mr. Wizard, but that's not what I meant."

"It doesn't matter, it's still just ringing." Sam closed the phone, running a hand through his hair.

Dean squeezed the steering wheel tighter, his suspicions now confirmed. Something was going on in New Eden, something more than just dead loved ones reappearing and tourists going missing. They'd gone into the hunt blind, believing they had all the information, that this was an in and out case— and now they were cut off in a town that by all accounts should no longer exist. It was like jumping out of a plane without a parachute, and any help they could have had was now far beyond their reach.

6666666666666

Bobby knew something was up with John, he could see it in his eyes. Whenever Winchester had an idea, whenever a plan— good or bad— was taking shape, a storm swelled in those dark orbs. The mechanic knew the instant he'd said the wrong thing, knew the ramifications of his last statement. He hadn't been thinking, just mumbling a simple fact, but it was still the unchangeable truth— Sam Winchester was powerful, and it was something they could use to their full advantage.

But could and should were two completely different things.

Sam had been through enough, suffered enough, had been alienated enough. He didn't need to be wielded like a weapon, didn't need to be used by the very people that were supposed to love and protect him. He was a human, a boy, he should be allowed to have dreams like everyone else, to have a life. But, even as he thought it, Bobby knew it was something that would never be. Sam was different, marked at the age of six months, nothing would ever be able to change who he was. He could never have normal, never have safety, never have what he yearned for, and it was the first and only thing that had ever made Bobby question the hunt.

Bobby believed he could make a difference, believed he could save the world, keep others from suffering what he had, from losing like he had. But ever since the mechanic had met the Winchesters, he'd seen all those ideals go out the window. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard anyone tried, there just didn't seem to be a way to save the Winchester boys— and to Bobby, that was the cruelest twist of fate he'd ever witnessed.

"Don't go there, Johnny." Bobby began, earning a glare from the man sitting across the table.

"Go where?"

"I know what you're thinking."

"So you're a mind reader now?"

"Doesn't take a mind reader to know what's going through that head of yours. We can't let Sam use whatever powers he's got, we can't risk it."

"Why not?"

"Well let's see, he's almost killed Dean with them, three times."

"That wasn't on purpose."

"Yeah, but he seemed pretty full of 'purpose' when he turned on you. You forget that part?"

"Bobby, the Yellow Eyed Demon's still out there, and who knows what else is hunting them. It's an option."

"Not an option I wanna pursue."

"So we just sit here with our thumbs up our asses?"

"No, we find the boys, then we do what we've been doing for twenty some odd years. We hunt."

"I hate feeling so damn helpless, Bobby."

"Believe me, John, I know how you feel, you're not the only person here that cares for those boys."

Bobby could see John's gratitude shinning in his eyes. The statement was true, they may not have been related by blood, but as far as Bobby was concerned, Sam and Dean were like sons to him. He sighed, flipping open his phone as he rubbed his weary eyes. They needed help, there was no denying that.

_"Good timing"_

"Huh?" Bobby began, pulling the phone away from his ear— he hadn't yet dialed, but there was definitely a voice on the other end. "Who is this?"

John looked up instantly, Bobby switching the phone to speaker and placing it on the table.

_"An acquaintance."_

"You called me earlier," John broke in, obviously recognizing the chilling voice. The only thing Bobby could tell about the voice on the other end of the line was that it was definitely not human.

_"Good memory. I take it you remember what we spoke about, too."_

"I remember." John ground out.

_"Have you considered my offer?"_

"What do you think."

_"Now, Johnny, that's not the answer I was looking for."_

"I'm not selling out my children."

_"It's the lesser of two evils, Winchester."_ The voice snapped, and Bobby couldn't help but smirk— he loved it when the bad guys were just as pissed off as him.

"Excuse me if I'd like to explore my options."

_"I am your only option. What if something else finds them first, something that sees Sam as an obstacle instead of a tool? How can you live with yourself, knowing you sent him to his death."_

"And how do you expect me to live with myself after I sell him out?"

_"You'll at least be giving him a chance!"_

"Why are you so interested in him in the first place?"

_"Oh please, John, I know you've been thinking the same thing. I've been following you, reaching into your mind, listening to your thoughts. You know as well as I do the potential resting inside Sam. Tell me you haven't thought of putting his powers to use."_

"I will never give up my son, I don't care what you do."

_"Fine. Then consider yourself warned, Winchester."_

"What the hell was that?" Bobby asked, eyeing the phone suspiciously, the dead silence almost as chilling as the now absent voice.

"That was whatever called me before."

"That ain't human, John."

"I know, I didn't have much time to go into it, though."

"Did it say anything to you when it called the first time? Any clues to what it might be?"

"It told me it wanted to use Sam, that others were after him."

"I got that part, anything else?"

"What else is there?"

"I don't know, what'd it say when you asked who it was."

John sat in silence for a moment, searching his mind, his head held in his hands. Bobby didn't meant to be harsh, but they needed answers and the sooner the better. Whatever this thing was, it wanted Sam, bad, and a sudden fear began to grow in the pit of his stomach. Marshal Williamson hadn't been acting alone, of that Bobby was certain. He'd known the other hunter for years, had worked with him on several hunts— the man that tried to kill Dean was definitely not Marshal. It was like he was being controlled by something, and Bobby knew that whatever had been controlling the now dead hunter was still after Sam.

"It said it was the voice at the back of my mind. The whisper I hear when no one's around. Whatever that means."

Bobby knew exactly what it meant, and the mechanic suddenly felt very sick to his stomach— Marshal Williamson hadn't been the only hunter to get played. And, if the look on John's face was any indication, he now realized it, too.

"I heard it," Bobby began, wanting to take some of the weight off of John's shoulders. After all, the man had been listening to that pesky voice at the back of his head, unwittingly following the advice of a demon.

"It told me I was over reacting," John breathed.

"Huh?"

"When Dean was getting sick, when the infection was growing. I thought it was me just telling myself to calm down."

"You didn't know."

"I should have. Damn it, Bobby, the kid was dying right in front of me and I freaking ignored it."

"John, we can't let this thing divide us, not now."

"I ignored him, Bobby, because a demon told me to."

"You can't blame yourself for being hoodwinked by a demon."

"Really? 'Cause I seem to recall blaming both Joshua and Marshal for the exact same thing."

Bobby knew his friend was right— Joshua Robins and Marshal Williamson had believed they were acting for the greater good, doing what needed to be done to ensure the demons wouldn't take over. They were weaker, easily led, and Bobby knew as well as John that they hadn't started out as the sociopaths they had ended life as.

"We can't do anything about that now, John." Bobby began solemnly. What was done was done, they couldn't dwell on the past, they had to act.

"You have any idea what this could be?" John began a few minutes later, his composure slowly returning.

"As a matter of fact, I do. I think it's a demon called an Iblis."

"I never heard of one."

"That's 'cause they're pretty rare, a lot like an Asura. Iblis actually means devil, and its said they control people by whispering to them, posing as their own inner voices."

"What's it want with Sam?"

"Who knows what demons want with anybody. My guess is it's trying to get the strongest players on its side."

"So we summon it, trap it and kill it?"

"Pretty much, you still got the colt?"

"Yeah. God, Bobby."

"We'll take care of the Iblis then go for the boys. They'll be fine."

"Will they? I mean, the Asura, an Iblis, the Yellow Eyed Demon— just how powerful is Sam?"


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello everyone. thank you all so much for the great reviews, they make my day. hope you all enjoy the next chapter. _

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 7

"Bingo," Dean began triumphantly, his voice drifting to Sam from across the large library.

To say that Sam had been amazed when they'd entered the large library would be an understatement. He'd originally thought the place would be empty, littered with a few forgotten books but nothing more. He was very much mistaken. It was like the place had been abandoned in an instant, like everyone had simply stood up and walked out the door, never returning. Books were still laying on the tables, filing cabinets open, the contents of drawers laid out neatly on the floor. If it wasn't for the three inch layer of dust coating everything, Sam would have thought everyone had left mere moments before they walked in.

It was all eery to Sam, the entire situation sending chills down his spine. He could feel his senses heightening, almost as though the air around him was being charged. His thoughts went to Dean the moment they entered the library, the older man making his way to the opposite side of the building, even as Sam protested the action. The younger man had learned long ago, though, not to try and change his stubborn brother's mind. Plus, Sam wanted to test a new theory.

Ever since the day at the lake, Sam had felt different, like his senses were stronger than they had been. It was something he still had relatively little control over, but that didn't stop him from exploring his growing powers. Death visions had been a bust to him, especially since it never seemed to help him save the people he loved, but the Asura's powers, that was something else entirely. The idea that he could kill someone with his mind still terrified the younger man, and he knew he had to keep his anger and emotions in check to avoid melting people and freaky storm. But the tracking, that was something he could do with relative ease.

He'd realized it only recently, but he knew it was something he needed to explore. The supernatural world was attracted to his abilities, picking up on him when he used them, and he now wondered if it was that fact that had brought Rebecca to him. He'd been worried about his brother, letting his mind drift to the older man just as he had in Montana— and once again, he felt his brother's emotions. It was more muted than it had been while he was being possessed, but it was enough to let Sam know Dean was still with him, still safe.

As Sam reassured himself that Dean was fine, another strange sensation had come over him. He could sense something just beyond he and his brother, almost like a wall encircling them, closing them in. It wasn't suffocating, wasn't worrying, it was just something odd, but at the moment, they had other things to worry about.

"What are you 'bingo-ing' about?"

"Rebecca Moss, eight years old, was gonna be Little Miss Harvest of her age group in the parade." Dean read from a newspaper as he made his way over to Sam.

Sam looked at the paper his brother placed in front of him, the old periodical yellowing and faded. There, looking back up at him was the same little girl he'd seen a few hours before hand. Well, physically it was the same girl, but that was were the similarities ended. While the girl in the picture was smiling brightly, life and youth reflecting in her eyes, the girl Sam had met in the alley was the complete opposite. Her eyes had been darker, her face looking more like it was carved from stone— she was a shadow of the smiling girl she had been the day of the explosion.

"I take it she died in the explosion." Sam began, looking away from the picture. He couldn't see such promise, such life, knowing that it had all been taken away a few weeks afterward.

"I don't know. I would imagine so, since based on what you said, she's still the same age."

"Good point, since she should be about twenty-two by now."

"But you don't think she was a spirit?"

"No, I mean, she was solid, didn't flicker— she was human, Dean."

"Well, I wouldn't say human, she was something though."

"Do you think her parents are still around, maybe they've seen her?"

"Wasn't it Rebecca that was mentioned in Bobby's research? You know, the grandma visiting to find the walking dead grandkid."

"No, that was a girl named Allison."

"So, we got two dead kids running around?"

"I mean, come on, Dean. Spirits are born of violent, often premature death. I would say the explosion covers all the criteria."

"But don't you think someone would have said something if there was a bunch of dead kids running around? And there's still the whole ghost town moving and thriving secret."

"Yeah, technically the land should be tainted."

"Yup, a paradise for dead people, but there shouldn't be any live ones."

"This entire hunt gets weirder by the minute. I mean, where do the missing tourists come in?"

"Maybe they get axed when they see the dead kids."

"Nah, Rebecca said she's never seen a stranger."

"Right, so my theory can't possibly be right since a creepy, dead eight year old told you different."

"Sore loser much?"

"Whatever, we're still at square one, bitch, and we've got no back up. What do you suggest?"

"I suggest we handle this like any other hunt. Lets dig around here a bit more and then head over to suburban hell tomorrow, see if we can find Rebecca's parents. Did you get an exact number on the dead?"

"As a matter of fact I did."

"Uh, care to share?"

"Four hundred and twenty three, counting teachers and everything."

"Damn it." Sam sighed, rubbing his face. It was worse than he thought.

"Tell me about it. What have you been doing over here, lazy?"

"I've been trying to find out information about the accident."

"You think it was more than an accident?"

"No. I mean, that's always a possibility. I just think it's weird. From what I've been able to find, no one looked into it, there was no formal investigation."

"No one tried to figure out why the school exploded?"

"No. The most recent info I can find dates back to about a month after the explosion. Nothing after that."

"And New New Eden went back further, but it was all the make believe, Donna Reed weirdness."

"Exactly. I mean, I found some recent stuff over there, but nothing going back further than about ten years."

"So, we've got what, four missing years?"

"Yeah, from all accounts, I'd say New New Eden started up ten years ago."

"But everyone left here fourteen years ago. So, where'd they go in the meantime?"

"And why'd they all come back?"

"That's the million dollar question."

666666666666

John finished the summoning symbol, retrieving an ornate bowl just as Bobby came up beside him.

"Devil's Trap's ready," Bobby began, eyeing the symbol drawn on the middle of his living room floor.

John knew Bobby was tense, hell, he was tense and he wasn't the one that was going to be reading the exorcism ritual. They only had one shot at this, and the Iblis was far more powerful than anything they'd ever tried to summon. Hell, the only demons that even came close were the Yellow Eyed Demon and the Asura, and both of those encounters had gone to hell, fast. No, he knew summoning the Iblis was beyond risky, but his boys were at stake, and that trumped all.

He had a burning need to see them, to make sure they were ok— with his own eyes. The day he walked out of Dean's hospital room had been the worst day of his life, even worse than losing Mary. Because, even though his boys were still alive, John knew they were no longer a part of his life. He could still remember the day Dean was born, the day his entire world changed. It was like he'd been given a gift, blessed with another life, and now, twenty eight years later, it was being taken away from him.

"You ready, John?" Bobby's voice pulled John back into the present. Stomping down the memory of what could have been, of what he'd lost.

"Yeah." John breathed, wincing as he drew a large knife across the palm of his hand. He mumbled the incantation as his blood dripped into the mixture inside the bowl, the herbs melting away beneath the crimson flow. John took on last deep breath and dropped in the last ingredient, a fire bursting from the bowl, signally the ritual was complete.

"You know, John, a phone call would have done just as well. And it wouldn't have been so— messy." The Iblis smirked, tilting its head toward the bowl.

It looked like a man, or at least, the shadow of a man, and John was instantly reminded of the Asura. It wasn't possessing anyone, a rarity in the supernatural world, but it got its point across just the same. It was better than him, stronger than him— but John was still gonna cut it down to size.

"What can I say, I have a flare for the dramatic."

"That seems to be a Winchester trait. And, knowing you and your kind as well as I do, I know you haven't called me here to bargain."

"I guess you read me like a book." John ground out, nodding to Bobby.

The other hunter emerged from the shadows, a leather bound book held open in his hand. The Iblis just glared at them as Bobby started reading, showing no reaction to the exorcism other than anger. And, though he didn't show it, John felt his unease growing. The Iblis was big league, and he wasn't sure what effect the ritual they'd chosen would have on the creature. Yes, they'd chosen a much heavier exorcism right than they normally used, but still, this wasn't your run of the mill demon. Hell, the Iblis was the creature that inspired stories of the Devil in Christianity.

A fierce wind grew as Bobby read, the Iblis pacing slowly, obviously knowing about the Devil's Trap which enclosed the summoning sigil. The being twitched slightly as the ritual continued, showing at least some signs that this idea could possibly work.

"You don't know what you're doing, John." The Iblis spoke, turning its cold eyes from Bobby to John. "I can help."

"Yeah right."

"I don't want Sam dead, others do."

"I don't want you anywhere near him. I'm not giving him up to some demon to be used like a weapon."

"So you're choosing instead to watch him get slaughtered."

John just glared, not trusting himself to answer the demon. He knew the creature could read him, knew it knew the thoughts running through his mind. John wanted to protect Sam, wanted to keep the evils of the world away from him. But, more and more often, he was forced to offer his family up to the darkness, choosing the lesser of all the evils hunting them, and he wanted it to stop. His boys shouldn't have to live in the shadow of Hell, shouldn't have to watch each and every step they take— they should be allowed to live, and John was going to do everything in his power to give them that opportunity.

"I'm choosing my own path."

"That's no longer an option. You know what Sam is, you've seen what he's capable of. You can't bury your head in the sand and hope it all goes away," the Iblis shouted, its shadowy body wavering as Bobby spoke. The ritual was working.

"So what, you wanna be the leader of Hell? You wanna be the big guy on the block? Yet you need a kid to help you." John antagonized.

"He's not just a kid. He's more than you'll ever know. He could rule this world, John, all with little more than a blink. Be honest with yourself, Winchester, you don't use him because you're afraid of him."

"Shut your mouth."

"You know the truth, he's a loose cannon. There's a war brewing, Heaven, Hell and Earth are in disarray, open for the taking, and so many wanna take and take."

"I can see that."

"But there's so much more you don't see. You can stop it, all of it, or you can help it along. But you need Sam for that, just like the rest of us."

"I've seen what the powers can do, they'll destroy him."

"That may be true, but ask yourself this, John— what's one life, when the world's at stake."

The Iblis shrieked as Bobby continued to read, its body undulating as though it was bring ripped apart by a gale.

"You know I'm right, John!" The Iblis screamed again, trying to force its way to Bobby, to stop the other hunter from reading. But the creature finally seemed to realize it was too late. "I'll see you in Hell, John." And with that, the creature vanished, its once smoky body dissipating into the air.

"John." Bobby began after a few minutes. "You know it was lying."

"We have to get to the boys." John began, turning away from the chalk symbol on the floor.

He knew he'd promised Sam, knew he said he'd stay away, and he would remain hidden, but he needed to know they were safe, needed to know they weren't hunting something over their heads. He merely glanced at Bobby as he left the room, not speaking as he climbed into his old black truck. He knew Bobby was right behind him, knew the other hunter could read him like an open book, but at that moment, John Winchester didn't care. He needed to find his boys, needed to see them, and then he needed to find out just what was going on with Sam.

6666666666666

The dark shadows of the night billowed and grew, trees and bushes bending and swaying as if a stiff breeze was present in the eerily still night. A set of eyes pierced the darkness first, followed by the shadowy figure of a man solidifying slowly against the inky night. The Iblis smiled, watching the hunters climb into the old black truck. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. John and Bobby had played right into its hands— and now they were gonna lead it right to Sam.


	8. Chapter 8

_first of all. i'm so, so sorry for the delay, i've been sick and it's kind of put me into a daze. i'll try to have the next chappy up faster than the last. _

_thank you all so much for the great reviews!! they make my day. as always, enjoy and let me know what you think. _

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 8

Dean pulled at the collar of his shirt, cracking his neck as he stood on the overly pristine porch. He hated this place, and not just because it looked like something out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. There was something off about New New Eden, something wrong, and Dean could feel a weight slowly pressing down upon him. The town had seen a tragedy Dean could never imagine, and the land had been destroyed because of it, contaminated by loss and death on a scale few could imagine. And then, against all odd, it came back— dead children and all.

Dean couldn't imagine what it must have been like for the families, for the parents. Nothing could ever be worse than losing a child, Dean knew that with every fiber of his being, but that didn't give them the right to bring those children back. What was dead should stay dead— souls should be allowed to rest in peace. The elder Winchester could feel his anger growing, his senses sharpening as he stood waiting for the door to open. The children were dead, and they had been for fourteen years, but that didn't lessen his protectiveness one bit. They may have been gone, but that didn't mean they didn't need someone to fight for them.

"Dean." His brother seemed to sense his unrest, shooting him a look as they stood on the doorstep.

Dean took a deep breath, schooling his features— they were on a hunt and he knew he couldn't let his emotions get the better of him. He pushed the doorbell again, earning another stern glare from Sam. But Dean didn't care, his unease was growing with each passing minute, and he just wanted the hunt to be over.

"Do you wanna wait in the car?"

"Am I being grounded?" Dean shot back, Sam pushing on his already grated nerves.

"I'm not above it if you don't calm the hell down. These people are already skittish, we don't need to give them any other reasons to suspect us."

"We haven't given them any reasons yet, it doesn't seem to be stopping them."

"We're strangers, and I don't think they see a lot of them." Sam ground out just as the door was opened.

"Hello? Can I help you?" A woman asked, pulling open the heavy storm door, but leaving the screen door closed between them. She was in her late forties to early fifties, her long blonde hair pulled back in a loose bun. She looked startled to say the least, the appearance of two men on her doorstep filling her with more unease than Dean thought it should.

"Yes, hi," Sam began, putting on his best I-swear-I'm-a-good-guy face. "My name is Sam Turnsdale, and this is Dean Matthews. We're from the Bureau of the Census, we were just here trying to clear up a few discrepancies in out data." Sam flashed the woman at the door a badge, and Dean couldn't help but be impressed. Sam pulled off being a 'suit' better than anyone.

"I don't think I understand."

"We just have a few questions," Dean cut in, trying to ease some of the woman's tension. He moved to his side a fraction of an inch, trying to see past the woman, but she just pulled the door closed a bit more.

"What kind of questions?"

"Is your name Cynthia Moss?"

"Yes."

"And our records show you've lived in New Eden all your life. Is that correct?"

"Can I see your badges again?" The woman began, eying the brothers suspiciously. Sam and Dean both smiled, holding up their 'badges' so she could inspect them more closely. Dean knew they weren't perfect, but he also knew ninety percent of the world wouldn't be able to tell. "Yes," she began, crossing her arms, "I've lived in New Eden all my life."

"On Douglas street, correct?" Sam began, pulling out a notepad.

Dean knew they'd hit the mark when he saw Cynthia flinch. He and Sam had been up for most of the night, gathering all the information they could for the four hundred some victims of the explosion. It was only then the pair noticed a few small discrepancies the town failed to hide. While New New Eden seemed to be the exact duplicate of the original town, there was one glaring difference— the street names were different, and many of the streets which existed before the explosion were no longer present. But apparently, in all the planning and plotting, the town's residents had failed to notice their birth records and past census data no longer matched up with what they claimed was 'New Eden'.

"No, Marshal," Cynthia Moss corrected, though Dean could see her shift nervously.

"And your husband was born at Mercy General?"

"That's right, over on Baker Ave."

"Baker? I thought it was off of Central?"

"No, Baker."

"And you had a baby girl born at that same hospital, June 23rd, 1986?"

"Rebecca was born in 2000. But yes, at Mercy."

"And your daughter, Rebecca, she attends South Paulson Avenue School?"

"No," Cynthia began, taking a step back from the door. "She attends New Eden Elementary. Same as everyone else, we only have the one school."

"Are you sure?" Sam began, taking a step closer to the door when he saw the woman retreat.

"This is my town, I'm positive. Now, I suggest you check your records Mr. Turnsdale, because you must have the wrong Cynthia Moss." And with that, the door was slammed closed in their faces.

"Well," Dean began, leading the way off the porch, "that went well."

"She's in on it. They all are."

"What was your first clue, Wonder boy? The fact that the entire town up and moved or that all their dead kids are running around?"

"Ever heard of the benefit of the doubt?"

"No."

"Look, we didn't have any proof the parents knew what was going on before."

"What more proof do you need, Sam? They're the ones that're doing this. They're working some weird crap to keep their dead kids from moving on."

"You don't know that, Dean."

"Yes I do, Sam, I have eyes."

"I knew you'd come back."

The brothers both turned at the voice, neither one having heard anyone approaching. Dean took a step back when he saw the child standing behind him, her dark eyes studying him, almost as though they were looking through him— and Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he was being judged.

"Rebecca?" Sam asked, Dean unable to speak. This girl wasn't a revenant, wasn't a zombie, or even a spirit. She was something else, something different, and Dean was at a loss to describe it. All he knew was that he'd never encountered anything like Rebecca Moss before.

"Hello, Sam." Rebecca smiled, her stern eyes softening when she looked at the younger man— and Dean knew instantly that the kid favored his little brother. "I knew it wouldn't take you long to find me."

"Your mom didn't seem to want us here." Sam answered, moving a step closer to the little girl, and shielding Dean in the process.

The younger hunter had been doing that a lot lately, stepping in front of Dean, blocking him from the world, from anything that may take him away— and Dean was silently grateful for it. He didn't want Sam in the line of fire, didn't want his brother in danger, but he had a strange feeling there was more protecting Sam than guns. Something went on the day at the lake, something big, and while Dean didn't know the exact details, he could feel the after effects of it all around him.

"She doesn't understand." Rebecca answered, pulling Dean back into the moment.

"Understand what?" Sam pressed, his voice softening as he knelt, now eye level with the little girl.

"What's out there, what's beyond her."

"What are you?"

"I'm Rebecca."

"Rebecca died in 1994."

"There's more to life than this waking world. I am Rebecca, and that's all you need to know, Sam."

A loud crash from across the street made both brothers turn, a scream echoing across the tree lined avenue, shattering the peaceful neighborhood. Dean turned to Rebecca, intent on asking her if she knew anything about the commotion, but instead of seeing a wide eyed little girl, he was met by thin air.

"What the hell?" Dean asked, searching the large yard for the girl. She couldn't have gotten away that fast.

"We don't have time for that now, Dean." Sam began, already making his way across the street.

Sam was right, Rebecca had found them twice already, and he was more than certain she would turn up again. At that moment, they had more important things to deal with. Dean followed Sam across the street, the neighborhood eerily silent after the horrific scream. Neither hunter noticed the large black truck that sat just down the street— or the two occupants now climbing from its cab.

666666666666

John pulled the truck to a stop a few houses down from where the Impala was parked, killing the engine before the boys registered its source. Bobby sat in the passenger seat, his mind miles away from the freakishly prefect, tree line street they were sitting on. He couldn't shake a feeling growing inside him, couldn't get his mind away from the abyss it had been consumed by after the exorcism. The Iblis's words were still resounding in his brain, coming to him as though the creature was still speaking.

_"What's one life, when the world's at stake."_

In his heart Bobby knew the answer, knew Sam could never be sacrificed— hell, he'd lay down and die before he lost either of the boys. But the world was bigger than the Winchesters, bigger than Sam and Dean, and the Iblis was right— what gave them the permission to sacrifice everything for one man. Family. It was the one thing that kept echoing back through Bobby's overloaded mind. Sam and Dean were his family, and that trumped all. They may not have been linked by blood, but in the mechanic's mind, they were just as much his sons as they were John's.

"Are you getting a creepy vibe from this place?" John asked, breaking Bobby out of his thoughts.

"A creepy vibe? What're you, channeling Dean?"

"Come on, Bobby, it's just weird."

"You forgetting you used to live in a neighborhood, too."

"It's not weird 'cause it's a neighborhood, it's just— too perfect."

"Man, you're getting paranoid in your old age, Johnny."

"You're a barrel of laughs, Singer. Who're they talking to?" John asked after a moment.

The boys had been walking back to the car, arguing with each step they took, but then something had grabbed their attention, and Bobby couldn't see what. There was a large hedge surrounding the yard, completely blocking whatever the boys were with— and, since he could clearly see Sam and Dean above the bushes, Bobby guessed they were speaking with a child.

Bobby didn't have a chance to answer his long time friend, though, when a crash and scream broke through the once peaceful silence of the street. The hunters were out of the truck in seconds, racing toward the source of the commotion, mere feet behind Sam and Dean. They watched as the boys disappeared behind a large house, he and John making it to the backyard no more than a minute later. Bobby knew they should have held back, should have met with the boys in a more private environment, but his hunting instincts took over— nothing good ever came from crashes and screams.

"Oh no, George." An older woman was leaning over a man 'George' if Bobby had to guess. The man, most likely in his late sixties, was laying sprawled in the grass, blood quickly turning the once green lawn a vidid shade of red. He was laying next to a large ladder, a broken piece of metal still clutched in his hand.

The mechanic watched as Sam checked the man's pulse, even though he knew George was already dead. Bobby tried to keep his face blank, taking on the role of concerned bystander, even while Dean started him down. The young hunter knew enough not to say anything, but one look into his turbulent green eyes told Singer everything— he and John shouldn't have snuck up on the boys.

Sam turned a moment later, pulling out his cellphone as he shook his head, the elderly woman beside him crumbling to the ground beside her dead husband. Bobby could feel the wind around him pick up when Sam's eyes landed on John, the boy's shoulders tensing when he saw the intruder. Bobby didn't know what he had expected, Sam could hold a grudge like no one else, except perhaps his father. But still, the icy stare he was currently giving the older man was enough to shed a chill down Bobby's spine. Sam didn't want John there, and he was making it absolutely clear.

"What happened?" John asked, moving closer to the woman, Sam turning his back as he spoke with the 911 operator.

"He, he was cleaning the gutters," the woman began, motioning toward the metal in the man's hand. "and the ladder, it just gave way."

"An ambulance is on its way." Sam broke in, his voice cold and even— the young man obviously trying to control himself and his powers in front of the distraught stranger.

"Oh, George," the woman moaned again, looking skyward, searching for answers.

The four men turned away from the scene, trying to give the grieving woman space. It was one of the most awkward situations Bobby had ever been in. Sam, Dean and John were all doing their best to ignore each other while a woman they didn't know mourned her recently deceased husband. Yeah, it was more than a little weird. The moment was abruptly ended, though, when they all heard the woman gasp.

Bobby turned his attention back to her, the widow staring off at the back of her property, a figure standing in the shadow of the trees. It looked like a young boy, no more than twelve, but his eyes— they were deeper than anything Bobby had witnessed.

"Please tell me," the woman begged, looking at the child as though he were some kind of great leader. Whatever hope she seemed to be searching for vanished a moment later, the wail of the approaching ambulance drowning out the woman's cries as the young boy shook his head slowly.

666666666666

The Iblis cursed, taking in the scene before it. The plan had worked perfectly, John and Bobby leading him to Sam, leading the demon to what it needed the most. But there were complications it hadn't foreseen. Sam's powers were stronger, his defenses fiercer than the Iblis thought they would be in such a short time. Sam had figured out what was going on, had found a way to control himself, control his powers, and the Iblis knew the job was now a whole hell of a lot harder.

But that wasn't why the creature had cursed. It could break a human, no matter how powerful. Humans had a weakness no other creatures possessed, a weakness which kept them from inheriting a world many believed was already theirs. Humans loved, plain and simple, and that same love could be used against them like an atom bomb. It made men reckless, made them weak, blinded, foolish. And it was the one thing the Winchesters could never fight. The demon knew beyond a doubt that the family would sacrifice anything for each other, and now that the Iblis saw what it was up against, it would need ever bit of that leverage.

It recognized the boy for what he was, recognized the town for what it was, and that's what had the demon so upset. It was a force the Iblis couldn't fight, and the demon knew, it had to get to Sam before the children did.


	9. Chapter 9

_hello everyone. thank you all so much for the great reviews!! i'm still sick, but have managed to get a few more days off work, so i was able to spend some much needed time writing :). i'm hoping to have the last few chaps up quick. as always, enjoy and let me know what you think :)_

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 9

Sam hadn't spoken the entire ride back to the motel, the young man choosing instead to stare stoically out the window. Dean couldn't really blame him, though. They hadn't heard from their dad in weeks, not even coordinates— and then he and Bobby showed up out of the blue, right in the middle of a hunt. It screamed scam, but Dean was still torn. He didn't want to be treated like a kid, didn't want his father watching every step he took, but that didn't mean he didn't want John with him. And if this was the way to do that, then Dean couldn't be upset, not really. His dad didn't trust him to watch Sam's back, fine, at least he wasn't avoiding him like he had the plague anymore.

He jumped when he heard a knock on the window, not realizing he was still sitting in the parking lot of the motel. Sam had climbed from the car the minute Dean put it in park, slamming the motel room door in his father's face. But, all the while, Dean remained in the car, lost in thought— that was, until Bobby knocked on the window.

"You alright, kid?" Bobby asked, concern lacing his features.

Dean just closed his eyes, letting out a long breath before answering. Ever since the Asura, ever since shattering his knee, people had looked at him like he was broken. He had hoped it would go away once the injury was fixed, had hoped people would stop looking at him like a lost cause— but it was clear now, that that was not the case. "I'm fine, Bobby. What're you two doing here, anyway?"

"We got worried when we couldn't get a hold of you."

"What?" Dean asked, leaning against the hood of the car. He didn't want to go into the room, didn't want to walk into the middle of the fight he knew was taking place. "You never called."

"Yeah, we did, about fifty times— email, too. Nothing went through."

"Damn it, I knew something wasn't right about this town."

"Speaking of 'this town', why the hell are you two sleeping in this dump. Why not stay in New Eden?"

"This is New Eden."

"Then what'd we find you in?"

"New Eden."

"Are you sure you're feeling alright, Dean?"

"I'm fine, Bobby. It's a long story."

"I've got time, I'm sure Johnny and Sammy can occupy themselves."

"Just as long as they don't kill each other." Dean's smirk died on his lips when he saw something flash across Bobby's face— the look gone just as quickly as it had come. "What?"

"Nothing. You're the one filling me in, remember."

Dean could feel his anger rising, his heart rate increasing as Bobby clammed up. He hated secrets, but at that moment, Dean didn't have the energy to deal with whatever Bobby was hiding. "Whatever."

"You gonna tell me why there's two New Edens, or are you gonna get all moody on me instead."

"What's going on between dad and Sam, Bobby?"

"Nothing. Well, nothing more than the usual."

"They still fighting about me?"

"Among other things. Those two could fight about what color the sky was."

"Don't lie to me, Bobby, I know this has something to do with the lake, something to do with me."

"You're reading too much into things, Dean."

"Yeah, sure. Do me a favor, go break them up before one of them breaks the other's nose or something." Dean turned away before Bobby could answer, trying to hide his limp from the older hunter. They thought he was weak, thought he was a liability, Dean could see it in all their eyes. Sam felt the need to protect him physically— standing in front of him whenever danger seemed near. Bobby felt the need to protect him mentally— purposefully lying to him when he asked questions. And John— he just ignored Dean's existence all together. And the young hunter knew he couldn't give the other three any more reasons to baby him.

Dean turned the corner, slowing his gait when he knew he was out of Bobby's eyeshot. He was still injured and he would be all his life, but it was something Dean still refused to admit. He saw the lights on in the motel office, surprised to see the clerk present as such a late hour. They'd been forced to answer question after question about George's death, about why they were in the neighborhood and what they'd seen. It had taken forever. And after a quick and silent meal, Dean was sure all four would need to spend the night in the same room. Hell, Bobby had even started taking bets about who'd wake up with a black eye— though no one seemed to find the joke amusing.

Dean pushed open the door, the dank and dreary interior almost welcoming compared to the fight he knew was taking place in his room.

"You again?" the old motel owner began, grumbling something as be pushed his chair away from the desk.

"Nice greeting."

"What do you want?"

"Another room. My dad and uncle are joining us."

"Do I look like I care who's who."

"Could you just cut the attitude and give me a key."

The old man stopped at Dean's curt statement, the shadow of a smile pulling at his wrinkled lips. Dean was take aback, who would have thought yelling at a guy would earn his trust. "Can I ask you something, boy?"

"Sure can, old man."

"Well, we're my manners, kid. Name's Russell." The old man smirked, extending a hand to Dean.

"No need to apologize, I take it you don't get many people out here. I'm Dean."

"You're right about that, though it used to be different."

"Back when this was still New Eden?"

"Back in another lifetime," the man mumbled, lifting a silver flask to his lips.

"What'd you wanna ask me?" Dean began, noticing the man had yet to give him the key.

"What're you doing here?"

"Vacation."

"Bull, no one vacations here. No one comes here without a reason."

"How long have you lived in New Eden?" Dean asked suddenly. The man didn't react, not right away, he just stood there, studying the young hunter before him.

"All my life, Dean."

"Why didn't you leave like everyone else?"

"Because someone had to stay. Quickest way to piss off a memory is forgetting it, kid."

"My brother and I, we've been looking into this place— and the place across the river. You said before you were surprised people came back. Where'd they go after this town died?"

"Scattered, moved to neighboring towns, other states. But they all came back, each and every one of them."

"Every resident?"

"Yup, every last one. No matter how far they'd moved— no matter what they'd lost. They all came back one day, all rebuilt it together. It was like they'd received a calling or something. They said God told them to do it."

"Why didn't you move over the river?"

"God doesn't want me there, kid."

"How can you be so sure?"

"'Cause he doesn't look kindly on killers— accidental or otherwise."

"You know what happened at the school?"

"Yeah, I know. I caused it."

"How? I read it was an explosion." Dean wanted to be upset, wanted to rip the man in front of him limb from limb. He killed them, all of them. But there was something in the man's eyes that stopped him, something that made Dean feel for him. It was a look of deep regret, of loss, of failure, and it was a look Dean had seen staring at him from a mirror more often than he cared to count.

"It was. I forgot about the paint, I forgot they put it down there. It was in crates, I just didn't remember, so I put my cleaning chemicals on top of the boxes. I was trying to clean— only time in my freaking career I tried to clean the damn room. I knew I wasn't supposed to be smoking, I was trying to quit, I just needed the one." Russell mumbled, almost as though he was praying for forgiveness.

"I thought I put it out, I swear I did, but they called me up so fast. My wife wrecked the car, they were taking her to the hospital. Principle Shaw, she said not to worry about it, they'd finish up cleaning the school after hours. That I had to be with my family. I left in such a hurry.

"I can still remember it like it was yesterday. The doctor was coming down the hall, that look on his face— you know, the one they use when someone dies. I prayed to God to make the man go somewhere else, to be looking for someone else, but I was the only one in the room. I didn't wanna hear what he had to say." Russell continued, tears forming in his bloodshot eyes. "I just kept praying he wouldn't speak, that he wouldn't say anything. And then it happened."

"What?"

"The explosion. I shook the whole city, felt like a freaking earthquake. The man never did say anything to me, turned and ran to the nurses' station to see what was going on. It's my fault all those kids died. I wished the man wouldn't say anything, hell I prayed for _anything_ to keep him away."

"The cigarette?"

"Wasn't completely out. They told me it was an accident, never held me accountable. But that never changed anything. It's my fault, all of it. I know that, God knows that, the children know that."

"What do you mean, the children know." Dean was lost in thought, lost in the story the broken man had told him. He'd left work when his wife was killed in a car accident, left in such a hurry, he hadn't checked over the storage room. It was an accident, plain and simple, but it was an accident that destroyed countless lives and futures.

"They came back. The parents rebuilt New Eden, and the day they finished, the children all returned. They came here, you know, telling me the messages they'd received. All the parents— they said they were finally getting peace, finally getting rewarded for never losing faith.

"You see, Dean, there's one thing missing from New Eden— its heart. The community banded together after the explosion, found comfort in each other, in their faith. They never punished me, they never cursed heaven, they mourned their children and moved on, believing all those who died were in a better place— at peace.

"But then four years later, right around this time of year, they all came back— camped out in tents, prayed. They said they'd been given a message, that if they rebuilt, if they made everything the same, erased any and all knowledge of the explosion, then the children would come back— and that they did."

"But how do you erase public records? I mean, an explosion killing hundreds of kids had to have made world news."

"It did. I never asked questions. The more they rebuilt, the darker they all seemed to get. Something's not right about that place."

"I was over there today, some guy died."

"People die over there all the time."

"But the guy's wife, she looked up at one of the kids— like he could save her."

"That's what they do."

"Huh?"

"You can't tell me you haven't felt it. The world's changing. Famine is growing, poverty taking over— all our money going to war. Neighbors don't help each other out anymore, the air's getting too hard to breathe, anger is growing, fear creeping into all our lives. It's the apocalypse, the end of days— it's coming."

"And the kids?"

"They've come here to judge. They speak of heaven, speak of the rift growing between the righteous and those who are hell-bound. They've come to judge."

"Judge who?"

"The world. New Eden's the gateway to heaven. It's the last step." The man spoke the last statement quietly, almost as though he was in awe of the children. Dean, on the other hand, knew exactly what was going on. He took the key from Russell, the older man obviously happy to have the conversation ended.

Dean left the office quickly— he needed to get to his family, needed to let them know what was going on. They'd stepped into something huge, something beyond all of them, and he wasn't sure they'd be able to put an end to it. The children had already singled out his brother, had already 'judged' both of them, and Dean knew there was no way to get out of it now, not without a fight.

Dean let out a sigh when he made it to the room, both grateful and a little worried about the silence. He was sure the argument had been huge— and the quiet that now seemed to follow couldn't be good. All three were probably inside stewing, locked in their own minds, forming their own grudges. But Dean couldn't worry about any of that now. Everyone needed to be focused on the hunt, it was the only way they'd make it out alive.

He pushed open the door without even knocking, surprised to see three very worried sets of eyes fall on him. He was struck silent with the looks, feeling more than a little awkward, he hated when people stared at him.

"Dean?" Sam began, standing and moving toward him. "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know— it's just."

Reality dawned on Dean instantly, his family's concerns shinning through. They didn't think he could take care of himself. "Don't worry, I didn't get kidnapped from the motel parking lot." Dean bit out, fighting to keep his anger under control.

"Dean, I didn't—."

"You shouldn't wander around alone, Dean." John began, speaking to Dean for the first time since entering New Eden.

"Really? I though going it alone was the Dean Winchester slogan."

"Don't give me an attitude."

"You gave up the right to boss me around a long time ago, Dad."

To Dean's amazement, John shut his mouth. The younger man had been expecting a fight, had expected his father to get in his face, shout about rank and the chain of command. But instead, he turned his eyes to the stained carpet, looking more like a wounded puppy than the formidable John Winchester.

"Where were you, Dean?" Bobby began, Dean's actions having silenced Sam as well.

"I went to get you and dad a room. I got some much needed info from Russell the desk clerk, too."

"What'd he have to say?" Sam began, sitting in one of the chairs as Dean sat on the bed.

All eyes were turned to Dean, the other three men looking at him like he had all the answers. It was a look he hadn't seen in a long time, a look that was once reserved for his adoring little brother. There was a time when Sam took everything Dean said as law. It was a look Dean had once cherished, a look he missed. It always reminded him of a time when he was really and truly needed, when he had a purpose beyond himself. And it was a look he thought he'd never see again.

"He was the janitor that accidentally blew up the school."

"Oh my god." Sam breathed, but John and Bobby just looked puzzled.

"What school?" Bobby began, John still sitting in silence.

"This ghost town used to be New Eden, but fourteen years ago the school exploded, killed over four hundred people, most of them kids. After that, the land was destroyed, everyone moved away."

"I can imagine." Bobby breathed, the true scope of the hunt finally dawning on him. "When'd they come back?"

"Ten years ago. Russell never left, he blamed himself, even though it was an accident."

"How do you accidentally blow up a school?" Sam asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dean felt his anger spike— Sam hadn't spoke with Russell, hadn't seen the devastation in the older man's eyes. It was a mistake, that's all— and Dean had learned long ago that the only way to make it through life without turning into a complete sociopath was to forgive. Everyone made mistakes, it was part of being human, but being able to see past the shortcomings and poor choices of others was what set men apart.

"He'd gotten a call that his wife was killed in a car accident— he said he just left work, that he didn't check over the room. He'd left a cigarette smoldering."

Sam visibly shrank, and Dean felt bad for his curt words. Children had died, it was bound to make anyone edgy.

"And ten years ago, everyone just came back?" Bobby asked, confusion coloring his words.

"Russell said the parents returned because of dreams they had— because God was rewarding them for their faith."

"What's the supposed to mean?"

"Once the town was rebuilt, with all the original residents, the children returned."

"They just showed up one day?"

"Yup, exactly four years after they'd died. Right at the time of the Harvest Festival. And now everyone believes they've come from heaven to judge the righteous."

"Dean," John spoke, his voice quiet, dark eyes turning to his oldest son.

"I know, Dad. We have to stop it."

"Stop what?" Sam asked, his eyes going between his brother and father. "What's going on?"

"The children," Dean began, his eyes locked on his father's, "they're Emere."


	10. Chapter 10

_hello everyone. thank you all for the great reviews, i'm glad you're still enjoying the story. sorry for the delay in updating, i've got mono and have been a little run down lately. as always, enjoy, and let me know what you think. :)_

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 10

John couldn't hide his pride as he looked up at his eldest son. Dean had put it all together, figured out what was going on while the rest of them fought about god knows what. It wasn't that he thought Dean was dumb, it was just that his eldest son had a way of seeing past all the things he and Sam seemed destined to butt heads about. And sometimes, John forgot that. The hunter's mind quickly shifted to the problem at hand, knowing now wasn't the time to let his mind drift toward family. They were up against Emere, and John didn't know if they'd be able to make it back out. He'd seen the boys talking at the house, and he now knew they had been speaking with one of the children.

And John knew that, if the children had already singled out Sam and Dean, then they were in big trouble. He sighed, running his hands over his face— nothing in their lives could ever be easy. Bobby had been sending them on smaller hunts, helping Dean get back into the swing of things after his surgery. But somehow, what once looked like a simple case had turned into one of the biggest of his career.

"What's an Emere?" Sam asked.

John looked up, his dark eyes settling on his youngest son. There was tension in the air, he could feel it with each breath he took, and John knew even the slightest misstep would set the young man off. It wasn't that he was afraid of Sam, not entirely— no, if John had to describe it, he'd say he was heartbroken. Sam wasn't the little boy he remembered, wasn't the wide eyed, inquisitive boy that fought with him over college, wasn't the man that fell in love with Jessica. He was different, harder— a hunter.

"It's hard to explain." John began, his voice gruff. He was tired, but they needed a game plan, they needed to have a untied front.

"That code for need to know?"

"Sam." Dean tried to break in, but John knew he had to step up. He couldn't let Dean be the middle man any longer, couldn't let him take the brunt of the fights between he and Sam. That position had almost killed Dean on numerous occasions, and John refused to put him in the line of fire again.

"No, Dean, I'll explain."

If the situation wasn't so dire, John would have laughed at the look on Sam's face. It was a look of complete shock, like John's statement was something the younger man was sure he'd never hear. And that single thought almost destroyed the hunter. His children, his boys didn't trust him to tell them what they needed to know, didn't believe he'd ever treat them like equals— and John knew he had no one to blame but himself.

"Are they spirits?" Sam prompted, sitting on the bed beside his brother. And, for an instant, they were John's little boys again.

"No, not in the traditional sense at least. They are the images of dead children, but they have powers and knowledge a normal spirit wouldn't possess."

"The one's I've seen don't look like they have any special powers."

John's worst fears were confirmed by his youngest son's statement. The incident he'd witnessed hadn't been the boys' first encounter with an Emere, and John knew it wouldn't be the last. The Emere had chosen his boys, and it was going to be a fight to get them back.

"That's 'cause they're smart, Sam. And above all else, they know how to get what they want— even if their prey doesn't know it." John emphasized the last part, trying to convey to his boys the danger they were truly in.

"Prey?" Sam asked, Dean's eyes drifting to the younger man.

John could see the protectiveness building in his eldest's sharp green eyes, his body tensing as he listened to his father speak. He knew there was more going on, knew something else had happened between his boys and the Emere— and John needed to know what.

"Yes, Sam, prey."

"What exactly is an Emere, like a demon?"

"No. A lot of people call them angels, but that couldn't be further from the truth. See, Emere are children that died on days of great joy, and not just any kind of death. They are kids that died suddenly, violently."

"What makes them different than regular spirits? I mean, most angry spirits died violently."

"They moved on." It was Dean who spoke, his voice quiet. "They moved on to heaven, and came back."

"How?" Sam asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I thought only Reapers could do that."

"That's what makes Emere so powerful— they can move freely between heaven, earth and hell. They have no boundaries."

"What are they doing here?"

"Judging. They're choosing those they believe are worthy of heaven." Dean spoke, scrubbing at his face.

"Not entirely." John broke in. It was a common misconception about Emere. It was why many people believed they were angels. "They don't judge. They're here from heaven, and while they give unconditional support to heaven while on earth, they aren't sent by any power."

"Then how do they come back?"

"No one knows. That's why they've been mistaken as angels. They're rare, Sam, incredibly rare, and dangerous. You see, Emere don't come to earth on friendly terms. They're upset, upset that earth doesn't allow them back as they were, upset that they're looked upon differently because they're dead. They come back to let people know what it feels like to be dead."

"Russell said the parents were given a message to rebuild the city just as it was, that if they did, the children would come back." Dean began after a few moment's silence, the other three turning to him at the statement.

"Why'd they rebuild over the river then, why not just use the town that was here?" Bobby asked, speaking for the first time.

"The ground was probably too tainted to support people again." Sam spoke, voicing the most logical option.

That was Sam, logical, even in the world of the supernatural and unexplained. It was something that had always amazed John. They lived in a world where logic was normally the furthest thing from his mind, yet Sam still found comfort in the notion. John had always suspected it was his youngest son's way of bringing normal into their abnormal lives. Sam needed to be grounded, needed to feel in control, and if this was his way of coping, John couldn't fault him.

"So they moved over the river? I wonder if the kids were happy about that." Bobby chimed in, bringing up another frightening thought.

"I would say not." John answered, sighing as he stood and began to pace. All he wanted to do was find his boys safe and sound. But instead he found them right in the middle of a mini apocalypse.

"Russell said the community changed when the kids came back. That it got darker, lost its heart." Dean began, his worried eyes still on Sam. "He said the kids made the parents erase all records of the explosion."

"How do you erase public records like that?" Sam asked, and John could sense his son's fears growing with each passing moment, a light breeze picking up in the room the only indication to his growing powers.

"He said he didn't know and he didn't ask."

"But wait," John began, Dean's earlier statement coming back to him. "no one talks of the explosion, everyone pretends it didn't happen because that's what the kids want."

"Yeah, what are you getting at, Dad?"

"Russell's the one that blew up the school, why's he still breathing? I would think he'd be first on the Emere hit list."

"He said he is, that's why he stayed here."

"The Emere can't get over here." Sam broke in, his eyes widening as all the pieces began to fit together.

"The Emere can go wherever they want, Sam." Dean chided, rolling his eyes. "I just told you that."

"Maybe they can't. I mean, everything has a weakness, right, maybe the Emere can't go back to where they died."

"I donna know, Sam."

"Why not? I mean, the explosion was enough to destroy an entire city, a pretty close knit one from what you said, so why can't it be enough to keep the Emere away?"

"I hope you're right, Sam, 'cause at the moment, that's all the leverage we have." John sighed, leaning against the bathroom door. He looked at his sons, long and hard. He was proud of them, even though he knew his words and actions never showed it. They had grown into great men, men John couldn't have been prouder to call his children. Unfortunately, the things they hunted also knew exactly how special Sam and Dean were.

"Why's that?" Dean began, shifting as he sat, his eyes still on Sam. "What aren't you telling us?"

"You boys have seen the Emere? More than once?"

"Yeah, one came up to Sam. A girl named Rebecca Moss."

"Damn it."

"Dad, what?"

"The Emere choose people, it's why a lot of people believe they've come here to judge."

"Choose people? For what?"

"I'm not really sure."

"You think they've chosen me, don't you." Sam spoke up, his face unreadable.

"Sam, things have changed." Bobby broke in, meeting John's steely glare. This was about more than just the Emere. The Iblis's words were still rocketing through John's overloaded mind. Others were after Sam, and some were far more powerful than John had ever thought.

"What do you mean things have changed? Dad, please, tell me what's going on." Dean was on his feet now, pacing the small room.

"Dean, what do you remember about your knee surgery?"

"What? Uh, it didn't get finished right and got infected," Dean answered puzzled. "What's that got to do with any of this?"

"Do you remember the warehouse?"

"A little. I remember some guy was after Sam. He said, if you let us have him, this will all be over."

John sighed, wishing he didn't have to put Dean through the torture of that day again— after all, it had almost been his last. Marshal had drowned Dean and, had it not been for Sam and the Asura's power, his eldest son wouldn't be here now.

"The man's name was Marshal Williamson, he was a hunter." John supplied.

"Why is it always hunters after us?" Dean mumbled. "I mean, I know we're awesome, but they should learn to deal with it."

"I'm sure you rubbing your awesomeness in their faces isn't going to gain their trust, Dean. Joshua seemed pretty pissed about that." Sam eyed his brother, though his tone was lighter than it had been.

"Whatever."

"Marshal was working with a demon, much like Joshua." John added, looking at his watch. It was getting late, and they all needed rest.

"Another Asura?"

"No, Dean, something called an Iblis."

"An Iblis as in, inspired stories of the devil?"

"Yeah, that kind of Iblis."

"Does the name Winchester just attract bigger bad guys than other names?"

"I'm beginning to think it does."

"So what, there's an Iblis after us, too?"

"No, Bobby and I took care of it before we came here. It confronted us and told us it couldn't find you, and we didn't want to lead it here."

"You having parties with demons now, Dad?" Dean asked, eying his father suspiciously. After all, this was a demon that nearly killed him, a demon that was very interested in Sam's soul.

"Look," Bobby broke in, trying to quell an argument before it began. "It's late, we're all tired. Let's just get some rest, we'll discuss it all when we've had some sleep."

"No," Dean spoke up, staring daggers at Bobby. "No, I wanna know what's going on. I mean, you freaking ignore us for weeks, Dad, and now you expect me to let you drop some bombshell about angels and demons wanting Sam and then hit the sack? You don't trust me, Dad, I get it, but don't treat me like some kind of worthless idiot."

"Dean—." John began, his son's words stinging him. Of course he trusted Dean.

"Dad's right," Sam's quiet voice broke through the growing storm, stopping both John and Dean in their tracts. "We need to rest."

"Fine. Here," Dean bit out, throwing a key at his brother. "room seven. You should go with them, Sam, I'm sure you all wanna continue your conversation without me around." Dean didn't give anyone a chance to answer before turning toward the bathroom, the door closing and locking behind him.

"Fucking wonderful." Sam cursed, tossing Bobby the key before stalking out into the parking lot.

"You may wanna follow him before he does something stupid, Johnny."

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Sam gripped the side of his father's truck, breathing slowly, deliberately. He could feel his anger growing with each passing second, his brother's heartache coming to him in waves, even through two closed doors. Things had been going well, and while they'd stumbled several times along the way, Sam felt that he and Dean were finally mending, finally freeing themselves of the hell they'd fallen into after the Asura. And then John had broken his promise.

Sam wished there was a place for his father in their lives, he really did, but if the night's events were any indication, in was a reality that would never come to pass. John just didn't have a place in their lives anymore, didn't have a purpose. He'd trained them, molded them into soldiers. He was a drill sergeant, a leader, he wasn't a father— at least not to Sam.

Sam let the winds around him grow, let the power flow from him and feed him at the same time. He knew he should be fighting it, but he couldn't help the comfort he found in its presence. It was something familiar, something controllable in an uncontrollable world. And, it was something he could use to save Dean. For the first time in his life, Sam had the power to watch out for his brother, to give something back to the older man. He knew it was because of a demon, and he guessed now that it was making him a target, but still, Sam couldn't suppress it.

He didn't know why, but he felt stronger, like he could take down anything that dared threaten him and his family. He was not longer a pawn, no longer prey— now he could feel himself turning into one of the predators.

"Sam?" His father's voice broke through the growing torrent, broke through his reprieve, pulling him back down to earth. "I thought we talked about this. You need to suppress it."

"No, we didn't talk about it. And as I recall, you're the one that told me to embrace it."

"I didn't say that."

"No, but you told me to use it," Sam added, finally turning to face his father. "As far as I'm concerned it's the same thing. I'm not some weapon you can turn on and off when it suits you."

"Look, Sam, things are after you."

"Things have been after me my entire life."

"But an Iblis, the Emere, Sam, it's getting more and more dangerous."

"More dangerous than the Yellow Eyed Demon?"

"Yes. The Yellow Eyed Demon is like a day tripper compared to what's after you now."

"Why did you come here, Dad? I thought we agreed that you were gonna stay away."

"You're in danger."

"You're gonna need to come up with a better answer than that."

"Look, Sam, we destroyed the Iblis, but it said others were after you. It's just, I can't watch you and Dean die. I can't sit back and watch you go."

"You should get some rest. You must have had a long drive." Sam began after a few minutes, his eyes still full of the storm he'd been losing himself to.

"Sam—."

"I can't talk to you right now."

"Alright. Be careful, son."

Sam watching his father go, noticing as the older man's shoulders slumped. Sam knew he shouldn't blame him, knew he should let down his guard and let his father in, but for some reason, he couldn't. Dean was at the forefront of his mind, his brother's safety and sanity the only things he had time to worry about. When John was around, Dean was a mixture of emotions. A part of his older brother was like a little kid again, elated to have his Dad there— but another part of Dean was weighed down, falling apart, drowning beneath his father's oppressive love. And, more and more often, that was the side of Dean that surfaced when John was in the picture.

Sam could feel his older brother slipping away, could feel a rift growing, and he'd be damned if he let his battered family fall apart for a second time.

"John can be a buzz kill, can't he."

Sam spun at the icy voice, his heart rate increasing as his sharp eyes scanned the empty parking lot around him. Just as he was sure he'd imagined the voice, a set of eyes materialized feet in front of him, followed shortly by the shadowy figure of a man. If Sam didn't know any better, he'd say he was staring at an Asura, the creature before him mimicking the demon that had trapped him in many ways. But, instead of steely grey eyes, the figure before him had a blood red gaze.

"I thought they destroyed you?"

"I'm a good actor, I guess. John wanted me to be gone, I was gone. He never said anything about staying that way."

"What do you want?"

"You, Sam."

"Sorry, I don't swing that way."

"Snappy answer. Spending too much time with Dean I see."

"Leave him out of this."

"Sure thing. He's not the one I wanna talk to."

"I'm here, talk."

"Your father didn't tell you about my offer?"

"What offer?"

"Your secret's out of the bag, Sam. I'm not the only one that knows about those powers of yours. But see, I'm on your side— sort of."

"I highly doubt that."

"I wouldn't be so quick to judge, Sam. There's a war brewing."

"There's always a war brewing."

"True. Look, Sam, you have a power that's unmatched, I know you can feel it. If you learn to control it, you'd be unstoppable. Hell, at this very moment, you're shielding your brother from the supernatural world."

"Then how'd you find us?"

"I followed your fearless father. He wants the powers for himself, why do you think he came back? I mean, he stays away for this long, then, boom, he gets wind of what you can really do and comes flying back into the picture. He's looking for a weapon against the thing that killed his wife— and you're it, Sammy.

"But you see, I don't wanna use you, I wanna be partners. I can save you from this, all of this. I can put you at the top, Sam, I can help you save your brother. If you embrace it, if you let me help, I can make sure nothing evil touches your family again."


	11. Chapter 11

_wow!! long time. I'm sorry about the very long delay, real life has been more than crazy as of late :(. thank you all so, so much for the great reviews!! i hope you're all still there, enjoy the chapter and as always, let me know what you think. _

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 11

Sam leaned against the back tire of the Impala, his head resting in the palms of his hands, knees pulled up to his chest— things had changed. No longer was he being stalked, no now the bad guys were hounding him like freaking door to door salesmen. And, despite every rational thought he ever had— Sam found himself considering the deal. It could save his family, save Dean, and to the young hunter, nothing else mattered. He'd lost too much already. But now, now he could make sure he never lost again.

All his life people had sacrificed for him, died because of him, and he finally had the power to repay those debts. He knew nothing would ever bring back his mother and Jessica, but at least he could keep anyone else from suffering. The winds around Sam grew as a smile graced his young features— he could destroy the Yellow Eyed Demon. Ever since being possessed he knew he had the power to fix things, to change things— the power to seek revenge.

He could feel the muscles in his shoulders and back loosen at the thought, his entire body relaxing as the cool night air blew across his face, ruffling his hair. He felt stronger than he'd ever felt before, a serene energy racing through him, empowering him. He could feel his powers grow as the winds increased, the torrents wrapping around him once again, saving him, enveloping him in a sweet nothingness. All his fears fell away as the winds grew, his insecurities vanishing, failures slowly dissipating from his overloaded memory.

He looked back over at the old motel, the world around him further away than it had been mere moments before. It wasn't his life anymore, he knew that now. He had a power inside him, a power that could change and rule worlds, but it wasn't a power Sam Winchester could possess. No, the man he had been, the man who had loved Jessica, the boy his mother had put to sleep at night couldn't house the growing powers. Sam needed to let go of himself, to become something different, something more— and that meant leaving the name Winchester and his family behind.

666666666666

Bobby sat in the motel room, his eyes locked on the closed door in front of him. He'd brought John to the boys, thinking it was better for all involved, but now he was having second thoughts. Things were going well in the beginning, but then John and Sam went at it, and it all pretty much went to hell from there. The mechanic had thought they'd all come to some kind of agreement while discussing the Emere, but he should have known better, because no amount of time apart ever seemed to change John and Sam. Dean, well he was an entirely different story.

Bobby always suspected Dean was like his mother, because he was definitely not like John and Sam. Dean was more internal, keeping his emotions in check while his father and brother were powder-kegs. And, unlike the other two Winchesters, time apart changed Dean— and Bobby knew why. Dean blamed himself for everything, took the world on his shoulders no matter what anyone said to the contrary. The young hunter saw separation as problematic, saw his father and brother's departures as trying to get away from him. In Dean's eyes, people didn't leave unless he himself had done something wrong.

Bobby sighed, he needed to get Dean to talk to him. Too many people had pushed the young man aside for too long, believing the lie that he was 'fine'. Dean was rarely if ever fine. There was always something running through the young man's mind, his insecurities always right beneath the surface. He just hid it well. And what Dean was dealing with now was slowly destroying him.

Bobby hated secrets, but it was a reality in the hunting world— and really, sometimes it's better to plead ignorance. But this time, well this time things had blown up in their faces. John and Bobby didn't want Dean to know what Sam had done to Marshal, because they knew Dean would ultimately blame himself. After all, Dean had been the one to get captured by the Asura and then Joshua in the first place— he'd been the one Sam stepped in the line of fire for.

The mechanic knew as well as anyone that none of that was Dean's fault, but the middle Winchester didn't seem to get it. And so, they downplayed the powers Sam had received because of that one solitary moment in time. Dean was being attacked by the Asura at the same moment the rivers and land the demon was bound to were being blessed— and in a moment of panic and fear for his older brother, Sam had run into the fray. And, despite the fallout of that one action, Bobby was grateful for Sam's brash move. Because, had he not acted, Dean would have died that day.

Dean— well he didn't see things the same way and his guilt only grew more when they found out Sam was possessed. Five months Dean had been by his brother's side, and for five months he hadn't noticed. Again, Bobby thought, not Dean's fault. An Asura was one of the most powerful demons Bobby had ever heard of, and the older hunter was still amazed the Winchesters had managed to not only survive its attack, but destroy the creature. But, just because they destroyed it, didn't mean they emerged unscathed.

The incident had left both brothers scarred, Dean physically, and Sam mentally. And, the moment John told him the true story of Shadow Pine Highway, Bobby knew Sam and Dean would never be the same again. They'd seen true evil, had come to the very brink of death— that wasn't the kind of thing you came back from unchanged. And it was that fact that was now tearing the small family apart.

Different wasn't good in the world of Dean Winchester. He saw different as tainted, broken, unworthy. To the young hunter, he had to be perfect, the boy his father had raised, and Bobby wished he could shake that thought out of the stubborn kid's head. What happened on the side of that lonely mountain hadn't made Dean any less of a hunter, son, or brother. He was still the same man, still Dean Winchester, still John's son and Sam's brother— but somewhere along the way, Dean forgot that. Missouri had tuned into Dean's feelings loud and clear on the nearly fatal hunt in Minnesota. Dean had been hiding from John, afraid to let his father know what really happened, and all that was now coming full circle again.

It was like the warehouse in Nebraska all over again. John had showed up with a cure for Dean, a surgery that would fix the boy's crippled knee— but it came at a price none of them had excepted. The enemy knew they were a man down, sensed Sam's fears when his powers spiked during the surgery, and the Iblis had acted on that information. And, once again, Dean had blamed himself for the slip-up. Add to it the fact that John, Bobby, and Sam had decided to lie about the events at the lake and John's departure, and Dean was left with no other option than to think it was all once again his fault.

Dean's words from earlier in the night came to Bobby again, _'you don't trust me, Dad, I get it, but don't treat me like some kind of worthless idiot.'_ Bobby couldn't help the sense of sorrow that rose up in his soul— why did they never realize their mistakes until it was too late. Dean had been broken and hurting for so long, and instead of helping him, instead of reassuring him, they'd all pushed him away in a vein attempt to protect him.

Bobby was pulled from his thoughts when the bathroom door opened, Dean giving him a stern look when he exited.

"I have a babysitter now?"

"Do I look like a nanny to you?"

"You afraid I'll get knocked out in the motel again— what would that be, three for three? Hell, if you count getting jumped at my car that'll make four."

"Keep it up and I'm gonna stop coming to the rescue." Bobby jibed, though he knew the moment the words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say.

Dean seemed to deflate as he lowered himself into one of the chairs. If it was at all possible, he looked far too young and far too old at the same time. He was a lost and lonely hunter, weathered by the world, fighting with the little boy that had once believed in heroes and legends, in the good guys. In that moment, Bobby wanted nothing more than to be able to save him, to take away the darkness that had come to rule the young man's life. Dean had nothing but his family, and to Bobby that was the biggest atrocity of all. He should have had hopes, should have had dreams— something other than heartache.

"I don't know why you all looked for me the last time." Dean mumbled to himself, his head in his hands.

"Damn it, Dean."

"What, Bobby? Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong."

"Whatever." Dean began, pushing away from the small table. Bobby anticipated the move, though, and intercepted the young hunter before he made it to the door.

"You're not going anywhere, kid."

"So they did make you babysit."

"Johnny and Sam didn't tell me to do anything about you."

"Sounds about right."

"Could you stop the guilt trip for a second and let me talk."

"What's there to talk about, Bobby? They don't need me, they don't want me."

"That's the biggest load of bull I've ever heard. They need you more than you know."

"Oh yeah. That why they both basically ignore me? Hell, dad won't even look me in the eye and Sam treats me like some kind of idiot."

"They're trying to keep you safe."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, but you shouldn't have to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've been watching out for everyone else all your life, it's time someone finally watched out for you."

"Yeah, 'cause I can't seem to do that either."

"I see why they get fed up with you." Bobby sighed.

The hurt look that crossed Dean's face nearly sent Bobby to his knees. There before him was Dean, no walls, no masks, just Dean. Bobby hit on Dean's biggest fear, on his silent and self imposed hell. Dean had nothing other than his father and brother, and if they didn't need him, then the young man believed he was without a purpose, without a cause— without a reason to be.

"Good to see I haven't lost my touch. But hell, five minutes alone with me's gotta be some kind of record for running. Most at least make it an even ten."

"You know that's not what I meant. Dean, there's more going on here than you know."

"Then why won't you tell me?" Dean implored, sinking down to sit on one of the beds. "Why doesn't anyone tell me?"

"We didn't think it was right to."

"We?"

"Your dad, brother and me."

"God, Bobby, whatever I did, whatever I screwed up, please just tell me. I can't fix it if you don't tell me."

"You didn't do anything, Dean, this isn't about you."

"How am I supposed to believe that, Bobby? I don't remember much about the warehouse, but whatever I did there had to be pretty major. I mean, you leave, dad ignores me, Sammy clams up, and now you're telling me you all made some kind of pact against me."

"You wanna know what you did at the warehouse that day, Dean— you died."

Dean sat still as stone, his eyes locked on Bobby, confusion building in the green orbs. "What?"

"You died, Dean. Marshal Williamson drowned you."

"Well, I'm here now, so obviously he didn't finish the job."

"No, no he didn't." Bobby sighed, eying Dean as he sat on the other bed. "It's not a story you wanna hear, Dean, trust me. But, if you wanna know, I'll tell you."

"I need to know, Bobby, please."

Bobby took a long, slow breath, letting it out before beginning the story he knew would shatter Dean. "John and I got to the warehouse after Sam did—."

"Why? Did that thing do something to Sam?"

"No. Dean, really it's better—."

"I need to know, Bobby."

"Sam wasn't Sam anymore, at least not entirely. The Iblis got in his head, that's what they do. They whisper all your insecurities to you, like a voice in the back of your mind. It got Sam all turned around."

"Don't sugar coat this, Bobby." Dean broke in, but Bobby could see uncertainty written all over his face. Dean didn't want to hear the story anymore than Bobby wanted to tell it.

"Sam attacked us."

"Attacked you and dad? Why? How?"

"It was right after he did that projection thing to find you. Johnny and I wanted to have a plan, but Sam just wanted to get to you. We tried to stop him, tried to keep him from running in half-cocked, but he just waved his hand, and we were out cold. By the time we came to he was long gone. And when we got to the warehouse, you were in the water."

"Sam didn't get me?"

"No. But like I said, he wasn't Sam, not entirely, he was—."

"An Asura."

"No. He was just channeling some of the power."

"Same difference, Bobby."

"No it isn't, Dean. He's still your brother underneath it all, he's not completely gone."

"What happened to Marshal?"

"Dean, what do you remember about the Trater girls and Shadow Pine Forest?"

"Huh? Uh, the Traters— they died I guess, I was a little out of it, all I can remember is Sam's freaky wind thing almost killing me. And in the forest? The Asura melted Joshua."

"Mix those two things together and you get Nebraska."

"The Iblis melted Marshal?" Dean asked, though Bobby knew the young man had put two and two together— he just didn't want to believe it.

"Not the Iblis."

"Sammy isn't a killer."

"Like I said before, it wasn't totally Sam."

"Sammy isn't a killer."

"Dean—."

"No. You're trying to tell me my dad just sat by while I drowned and Sam melted someone! No."

"You're daddy didn't just stand by, he tried to get to you."

"My dad doesn't 'try'. Nothing's powerful enough to keep him from getting what he wants."

"Until a few weeks ago I believed that, too, Dean. Until I saw Sam."

"Sam wouldn't keep him away on purpose, it happened in Minnesota, too, but he couldn't stop it."

"He could stop it, Dean."

"So you're trying to tell me my own brother helped me drown?"

"No, not at all. I had you on the beach at that point, we gave CPR. There wasn't a barrier keeping us away."

"Then what? What happened?"

"Sam finished off Marshal, and I know you don't wanna hear it, but your daddy didn't do squat to stop it and I don't blame him. Marshal chose to work with a demon same as Joshua."

"That still doesn't explain all the secrets, or my dad ditching me."

"Sam finished off Marshal, and then turned on John."

Dean looked like a deer caught in the headlights, the revelation shattering any resolve he had. Bobby stood when Dean stood, advancing on the boy when he began to shake his head, retreating back across the room. Bobby knew the look all too well— Dean was gonna run. With a stealth that only came from years of training Bobby intercepted Dean at the door, holding onto his shoulders as the young man tried to shrug out of his grip.

"Let me out, Bobby."

"No."

"Bobby, I swear I'll start swinging." Dean began, his voice breaking.

"Then swing, kid. You've got too much locked up inside you as is. You're not fine, you won't be ok, so if you gotta take a few licks at me then do it."

"Sammy would never—."

"Dean, I'm not lying. Sam was protecting you, I swear he was. At that moment, with his powers in complete control, he saw John as a danger to you."

"How'd you stop him? I went up against those powers once already and I couldn't stop it."

"Sam heard what he wanted to hear."

"Which was?"

"John promised to leave, promised to stay out of your lives. Sam did it for you, Dean."

"No he didn't. He did it for himself. If he gave a rat's ass about me he never would have left for school, he never would have ignored me. I told him flat out, Bobby, that I needed them, both of them— that I needed my family back. If he cared about me he wouldn't have pushed us even further apart." Dean bit out, pushing past Bobby and into the parking lot.

"Dean—." John began, steadying his son as he barreled into him. Bobby was only a step behind, watching as John intercepted his troubled son.

"Where's Sam?"

"I thought he was with you."

"Last I checked you were following him into the parking lot, Dad. You two having another chat about screwing me over?"

"Cut the attitude, Dean."

"No. Bobby told me about the warehouse and Marshal. He told me what Sam did."

"Son, I was trying to do what the both of you wanted."

"Bull. No one in this family cares what I want, and no one ever has. Now, where the hell is Sammy?"

"Like I said," John began, his voice rising with his anger. "I thought he was with you. I left him in the parking lot and went to the room, when I saw he wasn't there, I figured he was with you."

"You figured wrong." Dean growled, pulling his cellphone from his pocket and punching in Sam's number with a little more force than was necessary.

All three hunters froze when they heard Sam's phone ringing, the trio making their way to the Impala. There, resting on the hood was Sam's phone and his room key, but the young hunter was nowhere to be found.


	12. Chapter 12

_hello everyone. thank you all so, so much for the great reviews, i'm glad everyone's still enjoying the story. enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think. :)_

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 12

Sam sat in the old abandoned library, a pile of dust covered books laid out in front of him. There had to be something he'd missed, something more. There was a reason the children of New Eden had turned into Emere, he knew it, he just couldn't figure out what it was. Yes, they'd died mere days before the Harvest Festival, a celebration that dated back to the original founders of the town, but others had died on happy occasions and they hadn't turned into 'angels'. No, there had to be something else going on, a reason behind the children, and Sam was determined to figure out what it was. Because, if there was one thing his life had taught him, it was that nothing happened without a reason.

Sam rolled his shoulders, moving one book aside in favor of another, his thoughts drifting as he read. His family was going to be furious. He had too much else to think about, though, too much on his mind to worry about his father and brother— they were just going to have to accept his decision to finish the hunt alone. They meant well, deep in his heart Sam knew that, but they were slowly and surely becoming a liability. He had powers, gifts, but he finally realized that as long as John and Dean stood in his way, he'd never be able to reach his full potential.

It was like fighting against an ever growing tide, and Sam could feel himself being pulled in far too many directions. Dean wanted to save him, wanted to put himself in front of every bad guy that came Sam's way, wanted to help his little brother over every obstacle in his path. Dean didn't see Sam's growing abilities as a gift, he saw them as something to fear, and as long as that fear ruled his brother's actions, Sam knew they had to stay apart.

And John, John wanted to use him like some kind of weapon. His father understood the power, understood the potential, and saw it as a gain for himself. He didn't consider Sam's feelings, didn't think about what was good for his youngest son— no, all he saw was the power he could have if only he could control Sam.

The brunette rubbed his tired eyes, pulling himself out of his spiraling mind. Things had changed, he knew that now, and he only hoped there was a place in his life for his family once this was all over— that is, if he still had a life once it was all over. Sam could feel the powers in him growing with each passing moment, fueling him, feeding him, changing him. And, with each passing moment he felt himself, he felt 'Sammy', slip further and further away. The past was vanishing like a distant echo, and the present was coming at him like a brick wall and Sam just hoped he could survive the impact.

Sam's thoughts drifted to Dean despite himself— Dean would never accept his death, of that Sam was certain. Sam didn't know what his big brother would do, but he knew it would be something major. Dean couldn't bear life without his family, Sam had learned that on that long ago hunt in Chicago. Dean needed them far more than Sam had ever known, and that revelation scared him. He wanted Dean to have a life, something more than hunting, but it was slowly becoming clear that that was a future beyond Dean's reach. All Dean was, was his family, it was just that simple.

Sam looked down at his watch, knowing he couldn't stay in the abandoned library any longer. He figured it would take a few hours for everyone to calm down and he knew the library would be the first place his brother would look for him. Sam smiled to himself— in hindsight, hiding in the library was probably not the smartest of ideas. He jotted down a few more notes before pushing away from the table, not bothering to put the books he was reading away. He knew Dean was probably going crazy at that point, and at least now his big brother would know he was still alright.

Sam pushed out the back door and into the cool night. He pulled his jacket tighter around his body, tucking his journal into one of the inside pockets. Sam smiled again when he heard the roar of the Impala's engine, and a few minutes later, three voices in the parking lot. Yes, he knew his family. Not only were all three looking for him, they'd all gone to the library together, leaving his father's truck wide open. Sam needed weapons and spells, and he knew he didn't have long to get back to the motel and collect his things.

"Enjoying yourself?" a voice spoke behind Sam, though it didn't startle the young hunter.

"Cat and mouse? Who wouldn't." Sam answered off-hand, not looking at the Iblis.

"Who wouldn't indeed."

"Remember our deal," Sam began, turning to face the demon, "you leave them alone."

"Them, or Dean?"

"Stop splitting hairs."

"Don't get your boxers in a twist, I remember our bargain."

"Good."

"As I recall, you had a part to play as well."

"I'm working on it."

"You don't need to work on anything, Sam, you need to destroy the Emere."

"And how do you propose I do that?"

"Unleash your powers."

"I told you already, that's a last resort. If you're gonna work with me, you have to do things my way."

"Do you remember who you're talking to, Samuel?"

"Yes, do you?" Sam asked, his voice as cold as steel.

The Iblis stood in front of Sam, its shadowy form billowing in the cool night, its blood red eyes set on Sam. But Sam knew the demon was intimidated by him. The young hunter had a power in him now, and with that power, came the destiny he'd been running from for most of his life. But Sam knew now that he had to embrace it all, had to accept who and what he really was. Nothing ever came from running way. No, the only way to win, the only way to live was to stand and fight.

"What have you learned?" The Iblis began after a moment, taking a step back.

"I think I know why the children became Emere."

"That was fast."

"Well, I'm not a hundred percent sure, but it's the best guess I have."

"Do tell, Sammy."

"Don't."

"Right, right, only Dean gets to call you that." The Iblis smiled, obviously happy it had been able to get under Sam's skin.

Sam knew he had to keep an eye on the demon, had to keep it under control. The creature could kill Dean as soon as blink, and Sam knew it wouldn't fail to use the older man as leverage if he didn't comply with the demon's little plan. He had to stay one step ahead of the Iblis, had to be alert.

"The parents." Sam began after a moment, schooling his features as the Iblis smirked.

"What about them?"

"I think they turned their children into Emere."

"How so?"

"They didn't let them go."

"That's weak, Sam. Plenty of parents don't properly mourn their children. Emere aren't that common."

"Fine, what's your theory?"

"You really are a sore loser, Sam."

Sam just crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows as he waited for the Iblis's response.

"So, the parents. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Your whispering thing. See if you can convince them to let their children go."

"I'll see what I can do. Just remember, part of our deal was your powers. And by powers, I mean what the Asura gave to you, not your amazing geek-boy abilities."

The Iblis vanished before Sam had a chance to answer, the young hunter's anger spiking as the Iblis deliberately mimicked Dean. Sam took a long, slow breath when he felt a breeze begin to build around him. He had to learn to control himself, control his powers. He knew he needed to use them, that hiding behind the lie of 'nothing's wrong' was no longer an option. But he also knew he had to have complete and total control over his powers before he let the Iblis see what it was he could really do.

Sam made his way back to the motel as quickly and quietly as he could, thankful the town of old New Eden was a small place. He smiled when he saw the big black truck sitting in the parking lot. He had originally intended to take a few weapons and amulets— but he did have a lot of ground to cover between the two towns, and life would be a lot easier if he had a car. Sam made quick work of the lock before he proceeded to hot-wire the truck in record time. He knew there was a second bridge to the south of the city, and he just hoped the old structure was still standing and passible.

He pulled out of the parking lot without looking back. He wasn't naive, he knew he was playing with fire. He was working with a demon, fighting Emere, and struggling to control and wield his ever growing powers. It was dangerous and reckless, and Sam knew there was a chance he would not survive the fight. It hurt Sam to think that the last time he would see his brother would be during a fight. His father, well every time he saw him there was a fight, but Dean deserved more. Dean deserved to be given a proper good-bye, but Sam knew that might not be an option. The future was already put in motion, and Sam knew there might not be a place for both he and Dean when all was said and done.

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"I'm gonna freaking kill him." Dean mumbled, running up the stairs of the old library. "I'm gonna find him, make sure he's ok, and then kick his ass."

"Dean, calm down." Bobby began, running up the steps behind John and Dean.

"I am calm."

"Oh yeah, I forgot the meaning of calm was smoke comin' out your ears."

"What do you want me to do, Bobby, count to ten and start hugging people?"

"Can we just focus on finding Sam at the moment?" John broke in, pulling open the door of the library.

Dean still couldn't believe his brother had ditched him like that. This was Sam, the same guy that had practically glued himself to Dean's side earlier that week. His father, well Dean would have excepted it from him, leaving was the John Winchester way after all. But Sam— Dean thought they'd gotten past that. Then again, everyone Dean had ever known had left him behind, so why would Sam be any different.

"You two still think he just walked away?" Bobby began, and Dean had to give the guy credit. It was hard to be the voice of reason in the Winchester family, Dean knew that from experience, but that didn't stop Bobby from trying.

"Yes, Sam wouldn't stop being abducted to drop off his phone and keys." Dean bit back. He knew it wasn't Bobby's fault Sam had run, but Dean couldn't not snap. First John and Bobby show up and tell them that not only was there an Iblis after them, but a bunch of hulked out ghost kids, too. Then Bobby had proceeded to tell Dean about the day at the lake, and his world had turned completely upside down. Sam had unleashed his powers for a second time, but this time, he had controlled them, and he'd turned them on their father.

Dean knew the two had problems, he wasn't blind, but he couldn't believe things had gotten that bad. Yes Sam wasn't totally in his right mind while using his powers, and Dean imagined it was probably more like the tulpa Sam— which still gave him nightmares. But still, John was their father, and while the tulpa hadn't actually been Sam, the man at the warehouse was. All Dean wanted was his family to be together and happy, why was that so hard to get? It wasn't like he was asking to win the lottery, or discover the meaning of life— all he wanted was his family.

"I think we have clue number two." John spoke up, pulling Dean from his tumultuous mind.

They were in the dark and dust covered library, the place as silent and eery as Dean had remembered from his first visit. But now, something was glaringly different, and while Dean was still pissed as hell at his little brother, the discovery did lessen his growing fears. He'd been ninety-nine percent sure Sam had run off on his own, but there was still that one percent of doubt gnawing on his heart. But now, that was put to rest.

There, laying open and dust free on one of the tables was a pile of books. Dean smirked— even on the lamb, geek-boy couldn't stop researching. Who else would run away from his family and head straight to the library. "Oh crap." Dean began, reality dawning on him, Sam was playing them.

"Oh crap, what?" Bobby asked, eyeing his surroundings.

"Sammy knew we were coming."

"So?"

"So, I'm betting he also knew we'd leave the truck at the motel."

"Oh hell no." John began, turning toward the door. Sam was playing cat and mouse, and he was winning.

"Care to clue me in here."

"Sam knew how long it would take us to figure out he came here. And my guess is, he's already back at the motel stealing my dad's truck."

Dean saw a smirk cross Bobby's face before he was able to conceal it and he couldn't help but smile back. Sam was playing with fire, and Dean knew his little brother was on a downward spiral, but he also knew Sam was gonna give them all, including the great John Winchester, a run for their money.


	13. Chapter 13

_Hello all. Thank you all so much again for all the great reviews, they really make my day. as always enjoy and let me know what you think. :)_

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 13

John Winchester was pissed— and that was putting it mildly. Not only had his youngest son gone AWOL, he'd stolen his truck in the process. He couldn't even imagine what was going through the young hunter's mind. They were in danger, being pursued by Emere and who knew what else, it wasn't the time to be a hot-head. And stealing the truck was definitely being hot-headed. He still couldn't believe Sam had pulled one over on him, after all, he had been the one to teach the kid in the first place. John knew he should have been proud of his son's ingenuity, but he couldn't focus on anything but worry. Sam was out there somewhere, alone and hunted, and John knew they needed to find him.

Things had gotten out of his control again, and John Winchester wasn't sure if he'd be able to save his family this time. They had to come up with a plan, some way of either finding Sam, or taking a few hurtles out of the young man's way. His youngest son was on a mission, and John knew that it would take a miracle to catch up with the resourceful hunter.

"Told ya." Dean chimed in when they pulled into the parking lot of the motel.

"Not really in the mood, Dean." John bit back, shooting his son a look in the rearview mirror.

Dean slid back down in the seat like a scolded ten year old, muttering something that sounded a lot like 'just stating facts' as he turned his attention to the window. John knew he shouldn't allow the insubordination, but at that moment, he had more important things than Dean's pissy mood on his mind. He knew the powers Sam possessed, knew what the young man was capable of, and he knew they needed to find him before anything else did.

"We got a plan," Bobby broke the tension, "'cause 'one step behind Sam' doesn't seem to be working."

"Bobby's right, we need to split up." John began, pulling out of the parking lot.

"What! Dad, don't you think we've done enough of that?"

"Hey, Johnny, that's not what I meant."

"Look. We need to find Sam, and sooner rather than later. Now, if neither of you have a better idea, we go with my plan."

"I can reach him." Dean broke in, leaning forward in the seat. "I did it last time he ran off."

"No." John began, his voice dropping. He wasn't about to put another son in danger. Sam, well he'd figured out how to do that whole 'projecting' thing without nearly killing himself, but it wasn't something Dean could do. Sam was the one with the powers, not Dean, the older boy just had a kind of backlash effect, like an echo of what was in Sam.

"Why not."

"'cause I don't wanna have to worry about you dropping dead, Dean."John's voice rose as he spoke, but Dean wasn't backing down.

"Sam figured out how to do it."

"That's Sam."

"So?" Dean began indignantly. "What makes you think I can't handle it?"

"'cause you can't, Dean." John shouted, slamming his fist on the steering wheel. "Sam's got abilities you'll never have. He's stronger than you, Dean. That's why it doesn't kill him."

John had to steel himself against the hurt he saw flash through his eldest son's eyes. He didn't mean to shout, hell, he didn't mean to say what he'd just said to the young hunter— but it had been said. However, instead of getting in a fight, instead of Dean standing up against his father— all John got from the boy was a resigned 'yes, sir'.

Obviously sensing the tension in the car Bobby spoke, "Maybe we should split up. Dean and I'll interview some of the parents. Johnny, why don't you see if you can track the Emere."

John grasped the olive branch Bobby offered, welcoming the reprieve. He hadn't meant to snap at Dean, and lord knew he hadn't meant to make his son feel inferior. But John was cursed with an affliction called, 'speak first, think later' and more often than not, his children were on the wrong side of a snap comment.

"Alright, I'll drop you two off by the Moss's house, they seem to be at the center of it. I'll see if I can find the Emere."

"What about Sam?" Dean spoke up, though his voice sounded distant.

John closed his eyes, wishing for not the first time that he'd never become a hunter. No matter what was said or done between them, Dean always— always— put Sam first. John was proud of his eldest's dedication, proud of everything Dean had become, but he was also saddened by it. Dean should have had more in his life than a doomed mission to save his brother. Because, the more time passed, the more John grew to believe Sam could not be saved— and that the young man was never really theirs to begin with.

The Yellow Eyed Demon didn't pick its victims randomly. No, it was a decision several decades in the making. The children were groomed over generations, each parent coming closer to bearing the 'golden child'. And that child turned out to be Sam Winchester. All the others had flamed out or faded, but Sam— Sam remained. There was one thing the demon hadn't planned on, though, and to this day John couldn't explain. Dean.

Dean was an oddity in the hunting world. It wasn't that he had special powers or a backstage pass. No, he was just Dean, and while it was the best way to describe the difference, it was also the most confusing. Dean wasn't as obsessive as those around him, wasn't that blinded by the cause. It was almost like it was something he was born to do, destiny having no other path for the young man to follow. As much as John wanted Dean to settle down, to live a safe and normal life, he didn't know if that was possible— and that wasn't because of hunting. Dean was just different, and John was at a loss to describe it. It was almost like he was born for no other reason than to save people. Hunters, they did this out of revenge, out of loss, Dean, he did it out of duty, and that made all the difference.

John pulled up several blocks from Cynthia Moss's house, not wanting to tip the woman off. Despite the fact that there had been a mysterious death on the block just a day before hand didn't seem to change the resident's day to day activities at all. No, not even yellow police tape marked the spot, and that only served to heighten John's already frayed nerves. From what he'd been able to gather, death was a very common occurrence in New Eden.

"Keep your eyes open. I'm betting the Emere know who we are at this point, and why we're here."

"You didn't answer my question, Dad." Dean spoke up, not opening the back door. His deep green eyes were locked on the rearview mirror, studying his father, and John knew he couldn't lie— not at that moment.

John tried to find the right words, tried to tell Dean his brother would be safe, that the over grown geek would be home safe by dinner, but John knew that was nothing more than a pipe-dream. If they couldn't find Sam safely, then the eldest Winchester knew their options were few.

"We'll get to him, Dean." It wasn't a lie, not really. They'd get to Sam one way or another, but John couldn't promise they'd be able to save him.

Dean just stared at him for a few more minutes, his expressive eyes reflecting both pain and loss in the rearview mirror. They were standing on the brink, and John was afraid that they'd already gone over the edge.

A moment later Dean pushed open the car door, retreating quickly to the trunk— Bobby, on the other hand, remained. "We'll get him back, Johnny."

"You really believe that, Bobby?" John asked, though there was no sarcasm in his voice. It was an honest and heartbreaking question. John needed someone to pull him back from the abyss, someone to tell him his children wouldn't be swallowed up by the night— because he was beginning to think they'd already lost.

"Yeah." Bobby began though he stumbled over his words. "Yeah, I mean, of course we'll get to the kid in time."

"Keep an eye on Dean, would 'ya. And Bobby," John added as the other hunter climbed from the car, "thanks, for everything."

Bobby looked at his old friend for a long moment, knowing what John was saying. This hunt may very well be the end of the Winchesters. "Any time, Johnny." Bobby nodded before closing the door.

John watched as the pair slowly disappeared in the rearview mirror, knowing it could be the last time he saw them. He never normally had such an overwhelming sense of loss during a hunt, and that simple fact made his fears grow even more. Something was happening, he could feel it like a shift in the wind, a tilting of the earth. Something was going on around them, in them, and John knew they'd never be the same again— that is, if they survived.

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Dean watched as the Impala drove down the street and out of sight, the duffel in his hand feeling surprisingly heavy as he watched everything he owned literally drive off into the sunset. They said there were many battles in the war, and Dean knew this one was just beginning, and that it might be their last. He could still 'feel' Sam, and it was eerie. He had a sense of what the younger man was going through, what he was thinking, even though he couldn't describe it if he had to. He just knew. It was kind of like what Sam had described back in Minnesota, like being attacked by emotions that weren't his, though Dean knew his was a much more muted version. Whatever it was, he was grateful, because it meant that Sam, wherever he was, was still in one piece.

Dean tried to focus on the feelings that were coming to him, focus on Sam. He thought about the younger man, pictured him as though he was standing in front of him. He tried to focus on his brother's fears, his brother's worries, but found something else in the mess of emotions echoing to him— pleasure. Sam was excited by the chase, loving the hunt, intoxicated with the powers running through him. It wasn't Sam, the drunken euphoria masking every shred of 'Sam' and it sent shock waves through Dean's very soul. At that moment Sam wasn't his brother, wasn't 'Sammy' and Dean finally saw what life without the younger man would be like— and it was devastating.

"Hey!" Bobby's shout brought Dean back to the present, the blonde surprised to see he was on his knees on the cold sidewalk.

"Whoops."

"Whoops! You nearly drop dead next to me and all you say is whoops!" Bobby asked, his eyes wide in shock and disbelief.

"Sorry." Dean added lamely.

"Your freakin' family's gonna be the death of me."

"Admit it, we brighten your day." Dean smirked, leaning on Bobby more than he thought he should as the mechanic helped him to his feet. That had really taken a lot out of him.

"You do something to my day. So, Cynthia Moss, what do you know about her?"

"Her daughter Rebecca was one of the kids killed in the explosion."

"That's fucking awful."

"They only lost one kid, some families lost more." Dean began grimly. He still couldn't get the image of all those dead children out of his mind. Children were supposed to live forever, locked in a permanent state of naive innocents— they weren't supposed to descend from heaven as 'angels' before their tenth birthday. "Anyway, the Moss's were the first family back in New New Eden, they were some of the ones to lead the 'god says we can have our kids back' charge."

"Can't really blame them, though. I mean, losing a kid's the worst thing I can imagine, and if something says I'd get 'em back, hell, I'd take it."

"What's dead should stay dead, Bobby."

"Yeah, sure kid. Rebecca was the kid to show herself to Sam, right."

"Yeah, she seems to be the ringleader of the bunch. Either that, or she's the most talkative."

"See, I don't get what they want with Sam. Emere aren't the kind of creatures to wanna rule the world."

"What do you mean?"

"Emere aren't looking for domination. If anything, they're upset humans don't readily accept death."

"Seems kind of mega-baddie to me. I mean, who the hell wants to die?"

"Not wants to die, afraid of death. A lot of people believe Emere come to show people they shouldn't be afraid of dying. That they should learn to let go."

"They're killing people, Bobby."

"I didn't say that's why they're here, or that they're right or wrong. I'm just saying what some people believe. Emere are rare, we're in uncharted territory here."

"What do you think they want with Sam?"

"Honestly." Bobby began, eyeing Dean.

"Yes, honestly."

"There's a war coming, and I'd imagine both sides want Sam."

"I gathered that. But if the Emere aren't here for domination, then why go for Sam."

"To take him out of the game. To get both sides to accept losing him."

"I won't lose him."

"I know, which brings us right back to square one, standing on the corner trying to get our heads out of our asses."

Dean smirked, leading the way to Cynthia Moss's house. "Anyone ever tell you you have a way with words, Bobby."

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The Iblis watched as the Impala drove away, leaving Dean and Bobby on the sidewalk. Sam was moving too slow, the demon needed action. The longer they were around the Emere, the more dangerous the situation became. The Emere had already singled Sam out for what he was— and the Iblis knew it was only a matter of time before they tried to destroy the young hunter. Sam was the tipping point, the one piece of the puzzle both sides needed, and the Emere knew that.

They were a sentient group of creatures, content with life the way it was— they didn't want to balance of power to shift. Emere could walk freely between heaven, earth, and hell, and they alone could wield power on every level. The Iblis watched the two hunters make their way to the Moss's house, knowing they had to be stopped. Emere were described as 'angels' and the Iblis knew it was a fair assessment. They understood more, accepted more than any other race, and they knew fate and destiny should not be altered. And they saw Sam Winchester as a hurtle in the path of fate.

Sam was right, they needed to get rid of the Emere, and the Iblis was certain the young man was right about how to do it— but that didn't stop the demon from wishing to speed everything along. Azazel was growing restless, and the Iblis knew the other demon would soon try and steal Sam Winchester away from him. The Iblis's gaze drifted back over to Dean, the young hunter limping slightly as he walked. The demon knew he'd promised Sam to leave Dean out of it, but hell, demons lied, didn't they. There was only one thing that could be used as leverage against the psychic, but the Iblis also knew Sam could sense his brother, no matter how far apart they were— and therefor, he had to be careful if his plan was going to work.


	14. Chapter 14

_sorry, sorry, sorry for the long wait. i know, it's been almost two months :/. all i can say is sorry, writer's block hit me and i haven't been writing much lately. hopefully it's left me and i'll get back to regular updates. as always thank you so much for the great reviews and enjoy. _

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 14

Cynthia Moss stood in her kitchen, cleaning dishes as she stared absently out the window. She knew they couldn't keep their secret from everyone, knew people would come looking, and she also knew what needed to be done. No one could know about their children, about their gifts from heaven. Cynthia couldn't lose Rebecca again, she refused to. She wasn't naive, she knew her daughter wasn't the same little girl that'd been lost in the fire, but she didn't care. She had a child again, someone to hug, to read stories to at night— she had her baby back again.

She could still remember the explosion as though it had just happened. She'd been working at the small town coffee shop, sitting behind the counter joking with customers when the moment came that would change her life forever. The explosion had been like nothing she could ever have imagined, the very building around her nearly shaking off its foundations. And then she'd left the coffee shop to see what could have caused the commotion, and she saw the school. New Eden was small, the entire town being only a few blocks, and it hadn't taken long for the parents of the town to see what had become of their futures. Every child, every teacher, everyone within a two hundred yard radius of the school had been killed.

The police and fire departments had come, but Cynthia knew there was nothing they could do. The school was a smoldering reck of what it had once been— and Cynthia knew there was nothing to be done but recover the bodies. That had been the worst part of all in the young mother's mind, and the police chief's words still brought tears to her eyes. Cynthia had sent her little Rebecca off to school in the morning, and by mid-afternoon she was planning her funeral. But there was one catch that destroyed the woman— there were no remains. The explosion had completely demolished everything, even those trapped inside. There would be nothing to bury but an empty coffin, and that was what sent Cynthia Moss over the edge.

Others had tried to comfort her, had tried to show her that faith could heal all wounds, that faith could mend the shattered hearts of the families, but Cynthia would have none of it. How was she supposed to have faith when God stole her child from her? Cynthia couldn't believe her fellow townsfolk had moved on, that they'd continued living with their futures gone, with their children gone. Even her husband told her to let Rebecca go, to 'move on'.

That had been the final straw, and Cynthia Moss's life unraveled from there. She'd divorced her husband Robert and had begun to pray, but she wasn't praying to God. She read every book on the occult she could get her hands on, studied every religion that had ever been practiced on earth. She didn't care who was listening to her, who she was praying to, she just wanted her little girl back. And, four years later, Rebecca had returned with a message— get all the town to follow her and rebuild, and the children would return.

It took a lot of pleading, a lot of lying, and many of the tricks she'd learned in her studies, but she'd managed to do just what Rebecca had asked, she'd brought the town back. Well, she'd brought the believers back, the others were left to their own fate. They were in the end times, Cynthia could feel it in her bones, it was time to be judged and Cynthia knew she and her followers would be saved. Robert and the unbelievers, well they got what was coming to them. But Cynthia had saved the children, brought them back home, surely that made her worthy of praise.

She nearly jumped when the doorbell rang again, a dish slipping from her hand and back into the soapy water. She took a long, tense breath, wondering who could be calling on her. George had just passed, maybe it was someone from the neighborhood trying to get an inside scoop as to what happened. Cynthia wasn't one to pry, not by any means, but since she'd been the one to bring the children back, the others often turned to her when those that were judged fell.

She made her way to the door, her heart skipping a beat when she saw who was on the other side of the glass. It was one of the young census officers, though this time he was dressed more like a runaway from the detention center. And, instead of the tall, calming man who had accompanied him earlier, he was now with an older, even more weathered looking man.

"Can I help you?" Cynthia asked, opening the door but once again leaving the screen closed between them.

"We need to talk, Cynthia." The younger man began, not bothering to hide the threat in his voice.

"I've already spoken to you about your records."

"Look, you don't believe I'm from the census and I don't believe your kid is still who you think she is."

"Excuse me?"

"I know Rebecca died, along with all the other kids, when the school exploded. And I also know you did something to bring them back."

"I don't—."

"I don't have time to sugar coat this, Cynthia. What you brought back are called Emere."

"No, what I brought back is called Rebecca, my daughter." Cynthia began, her voice level and deadly. She would not be judged by someone as lowly as the man before her. No, only God had the right to pass judgment on her.

"No, Cynthia, she's a creature called an Emere."

"How dare you." Cynthia began, her voice like venom. She pushed open the screen door, stepping out onto the porch as she confronted the arrogant man in front of her. "She is not a creature. She's a little girl."

"She's not natural, not human."

"You think I don't know that."

"She's dangerous."

"She's here from God. If you fear her so much that means you know what'll come of your judgement."

"Look, Cynthia, I get it—."

"No, you don't. I lost my little girl, my baby. Do you know what the fells like? I lost my child once, I will not do it again."

"These children are dangerous, and I know you know that. They're targeting my brother and I have to stop it."

"So what? Your family is more important than mine?"

"Your family is already dead, my family isn't."

"What is life and death? Have you felt any of the children? Their skin is warm, they smile, they're just the same as they were when they were here."

"No, they're not." The young man's voice was cold, his eyes like fire as he took a step closer.

"Dean—." The older man tried to stop his partner, but the blonde silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"Tell me, Dean," Cynthia began, not the least bit intimidated. "If your brother died, wouldn't you do whatever it took to get him back?"

"That's not what we're talking about."

"Answer the question. If you could get back someone you loved, wouldn't you do it?"

"Life isn't always about getting what you want." The older man spoke up, he too taking a step forward. "Sometimes life's about learned to let go when the time comes."

"I won't give up my daughter."

"Then we'll take care of her ourselves." Dean spoke slowly, his voice like nails. He gave Cynthia one more long look, his green eyes piercing, almost as though they were searching her soul. Without another word, he turned and left, a limp barely noticeable as he made his way down the stone walk.

Cynthia pulled her cardigan closer, though the air wasn't all that cool. The man she'd just spoken with was dangerous, but she wouldn't lose her daughter again. She couldn't. If the children were after his brother, there had to be a reason, and Cynthia had faith that what was meant to happen would always come to pass. Yes, sometimes you had to give up what you love the most for the greater good, but sometimes you had to strengthen your hold in the face of adversity.

_'But what if now was a time to give up?_

A voice echoed through her head, nagging at her resolve. She'd been hearing the voice a lot lately, challenging her, making her doubt herself. She'd done so much to get her little girl back— it was the right thing, she had to believe that.

_'But what's the difference between right and wrong? Maybe the others are right.'_

"No," Cynthia whispered, her eyes drifting across the street. "I can't give up, not now." She was too far in, too lost to the cause to turn her back on the children now. She had to have faith, had to believe. Because, when all was said and done, faith was all she had.

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Sam sat in the driver's seat of his father's truck, his eyes locked on the road ahead of him, his mind lost in thought. There was something about Old New Eden, something that kept the children away, but he couldn't figure out what. Sam reached out with his mind, with his powers, but he wasn't searching for answers— he was looking for Dean. He needed his brother's strength, needed him by his side, even if he was miles away. Over the years, Sam had taken advantage of his brother, had believe that, no matter what, Dean would always be there. But over the last year, that foundation had been badly shaken.

Everything they were, everything Sam knew about life had changed, and he knew it would never be the same. The Asura had set a plan in motion that couldn't be stopped. It was all just a matter of time, though, Sam thought as he searched for his brother. The Yellow Eyed Demon was still out there somewhere, perhaps being suppressed by the Iblis or possibly even working with the other demon. This was a path their lives were always going to take, a journey they were destined to complete, no matter what they battled along the way. Their lives were never their own, not really, and Sam had finally begun to understand that.

He found Dean a moment later, his brother's soul shining out like a beacon. With that thought the Asura's long silenced voice came back to Sam's ears. It had called Dean a beacon in the night. Ever since the night of the fire it had felt him, been drawn to his pain, fed on his sorrow— and now Sam was doing the same thing. He wasn't feeding, at least he hoped not, though he did feel a burst of energy whenever he felt another's emotions. Sam shook the feeling away, focusing again on Dean.

His brother was upset, but that didn't really surprise the younger hunter. After all, Sam had walked out on him, again. However, that wasn't what was upsetting Dean, and a few seconds of searching gave Sam all the answers he needed— John. His father had said something to Dean, and even though it may have been the truth, it still broke the older man to pieces. Sam could feel his anger spike, the winds around him picking up in intensity as a deep rage grew inside him.

"You channeling those powers while I'm not around… naughty, Sammy."

Sam didn't jump, instead gripping the steering wheel tighter when the Iblis showed up, mocking his brother once again. "I told you before—."

"Yeah. But I seem to remember you making a few other choice statements _before_. Like, say agreeing to use your powers."

"I agreed to get rid of the Emere."

"You agreed to a whole lot more than that, Sam. You're not backing out of this one."

Sam stared straight ahead, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He had agreed to use his powers, to let the Iblis see just what it was he was capable of. It was a moment of desperation, a moment when Sam saw in him a way to save his family, a way to save Dean. Had it been a moment of weakness, probably, and Sam knew he would regret the deception, but Dean was at risk, and in the youngest Winchester's mind nothing else mattered.

"Have you held up your end of the deal?" Sam asked, still not looking at the Iblis.

"I've tried, Cynthia Moss is stubborn. She believes she's doing the right thing."

"Well, if anyone can convince her otherwise, I'm sure it'll be you."

"Aw, Sam, flattery, I'm blushing. You do know that as soon as the Emere catch on they'll come after us."

"I know."

"And you also know that I can't keep them away."

"I gathered."

"May I ask what your plan is then, super-boy?"

Sam stared out at the road ahead of him, his mind searching out his brother once more. Sam knew what had to be done, regardless of the consequences. Dean would understand, he would have to. Some things were bigger than them, bigger than just the Winchesters, and this was one of those things. The young hunter knew he had the power to destroy the Emere. He didn't know what those powers were exactly, but he knew instinctively that they could tear down the barriers between him and the 'indestructible.'

"Sam?"

"Keep working on the parents, and stay away from my family. I'll take care of the rest."

Sam looked to the seat beside him, not the least bit surprised when the Iblis vanished. He let out a long breath, smiling as the tension was released from his body. He wasn't sure if the 'shielding' would work with the demon so close. He had a plan, he just couldn't let the Iblis know what it was. There were two threats facing him now, the Emere and the Iblis and Sam knew he had to neutralize both. The demon wasn't above using Dean against Sam, the brunette knew that, and he knew he had to stay one step ahead of the being.

He could control his powers to an extent, and Sam was beginning to see what it was he could really do. But, with that knowledge came a sad realization. The powers were more than just something he wielded, they were him. If someone asked him to describe it Sam wasn't sure he'd be able to. He could feel the strength running through his veins, could feel an electricity course through him with each breath he took. To unleash the power wound destroy him, envelope everything Sam was— he knew that. But Dean was at risk, and as long as Sam was by his brother's side, as long as Dean stood in front of him and shielded him, the older man would always be at risk.

Dean had given him so much, sacrificed so much, it was time Sam repaid him. The young hunter knew they both wouldn't survive, that despite everything, only one of them would come through the war. As long as Sam concealed his powers, as long as he tried to hide behind the lie that he wasn't different, he'd be a target. But Dean didn't have to live that life. He knew his brother would never accept losing him, but Sam couldn't see any other way around it. He wanted to be with his family, with his brother just being brothers for as long as time would allow. But sometimes, no matter how much it hurts, you have to give up what you love the most for the greater good.


	15. Chapter 15

_hello everyone, thank you all once again for the great reviews. work's been slowing down a little so my new goal is to post every tuesday. so look for the next update tuesday :). there's only two more chaps left after this once, thank you all for sticking with it, i know it's taken me a long time to get this story up. enjoy :)_

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 15

John Winchester cursed as he hit the steering wheel, his heart rate increasing with each moment that passed. He could track demons no other hunter could, could break patterns scientists had been baffled over for years— so why couldn't he find one shaggy haired hunter? Yes he'd tough his children well, but John knew there was more going on than his youngest son simply 'going to ground'. Sam was doing something to keep himself hidden, and it was pissing his father off. When had he lost such control over his children? He longed for the time when Sam still thought he was a hero, when Dean still looked on him with admiration. Yeah, they'd been about six and ten at the time, but that didn't change John's needs any. As far as he was concerned they were still his little boys, still Mary's boys.

"They haven't been your boys for a long time."

John spun in his seat, his eyes falling on the little girl sitting beside him. She seemed innocent enough, her long, curly brown hair held in two pig tails, a singing bird stitched to her t-shirt. She was a little kid, plain and simple. But one look at her eyes told the seasoned hunter a different story. Her eyes were deep, like fathomless pools of knowledge and understanding— the girl sitting next to him was without a doubt an Emere.

"You don't know anything about them." John countered, refusing to lose his children.

"I know everything about them. I know Dean carried Sam from the fire when they were children. I know Sam was marked and I know why. I know Dean suffers inside, that he's falling apart, and I know what the Asura did."

"How?"

"That demon turned it all on, if that's what you wanna call it."

"Sam's powers."

"Until that point, they were just that, powers— an anomaly."

"But since then?" John asked. He didn't feel like she was trying to trick him, didn't feel like she was planning his untimely demise. No, he felt like she was sharing a great secret with him, letting him in on a great truth— a truth that happened to involve his boys.

"Sam's powers have melded, become stronger."

"I gathered."

"But Dean became our beacon."

John stared at the girl, glad he'd pulled to the side of the road instead of continued to drive with a whirl of information in his mind. There was nothing special about Dean, nothing supernatural— he was just Dean. "What?"

"We're not here as harbingers, we're not here to judge. We're here to continue the balance."

"The balance of what?"

"Life. Life and death go hand in hand, John. It's natural."

"That's easy for you to say, you've never lost."

"That is true, I was fortunate enough to go first instead of being left behind."

"So you understand?"

"Yes, just because I was a child when I died doesn't mean I still am. A soul without a body is hard to explain, the afterlife doesn't have the same rules. But, John, it wasn't easier for Mary to go first. It still hurts to know we have to cause pain when we leave."

"So, why come back? 'Cause you can't handle going first?"

"No, I can handle it just fine." Rebecca whispered, turning solemn eyes out the window. "I moved on, my mother didn't. I came back to try and teach her."

"Teach her what?"

"She was going into religions that shouldn't be practiced in earth, heaven or hell. I wanted to show her we were fine, that we continued."

"I take it that backfired."

"No."

"People are dying here, kid."

"Haven't you been listening, John. Death isn't something to be feared."

"But you're killing people."

"It's not us. Like I said, my mother studied things she shouldn't have. And the explosion. Things like that leave a mark, like a scar, and that pulls the supernatural to it."

"So what's going on?"

"Nothing more or less than the normal accidents and haunts of a town. We aren't the ones to fear— we're trying to teach those who are afraid that they don't have to be."

"And where do my sons fit into this lesson?"

"Like I said, John, there's a balance, and your boys are currently tipping the scales."

"So."

"So, that cannot be allowed to go on. Sometimes, John, we have to give up what we love the most for the greater good."

"That's bull."

"John, the demons are after Sam, they know what he is. And Dean—."

"What about Dean?"

"His pain is shining out, pulling things toward him, leading them to Sam. We will leave this town, but not without Sam."

"Then I'll get rid of you myself, because you're not taking my boy."

"If it isn't us, then it will be something else. We'll guide Sam into the light, into safety. Demons won't be so kind. Do you really want to take that chance?"

"Sam isn't going anywhere with anyone."

"Oh no? It's eleven p.m, John, do you know where your son is?"

John turned back toward the passenger seat, his anger rising— but instead of seeing the little girl, he was met by nothing. He swore, slamming his hand against the steering wheel again. This was so much bigger than he thought. He wasn't too sure what Emere really were since very few people had ever dealt with one face to face. All hunters knew about them came from ancient mythologies and had John not been currently dealing with one, he'd have thought they were nothing but myth. Now though, now he understood. They were nothing but messengers, guides. They were here to show the world death was not something to be feared.

But Sam was in the prime of his life. He was young, he was healthy, he was his son— it wasn't his time to die. It was never his time to die. Parents weren't supposed to outlive their children, that wasn't natural, wasn't the circle of life. John couldn't just sit by and watch as an angelic child led Sam safely to heaven. No, Sam wouldn't go into the light until he was old, until he lived a full life— that was natural.

John pulled back onto the road, his need to find Sam growing with each passing second, his heart beat racing as the car chewed the asphalt beneath its tires. Dean was bringing the darkness to them, like a lighthouse leading ships through a growing storm. Something had happened on their hunt in Montana, something that had linked the two boys together. And now the same bond that made them brothers was threatening to destroy them.

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Patricia Riley sat in the coffee shop, her eyes staring blankly out the large window, a cup of coffee cradled in her hands. They'd rebuilt it all the same, right down to the smallest detail and every time the woman sat in the shop her eyes drifted to where the burned out school had been back in the old city. New Eden wasn't an eden any longer. No, now it was more like a prison. Yes it was perfect, a world where they had their children back forever, but it wasn't real, wasn't life— it was like living a life trapped inside a painting. Beautiful, serene, but always and forever the same.

"You wanted to see me?" Patricia looked up to see Cynthia standing by her table, looking weathered.

"Yes, are you alright?"

"Just had a little trouble at home, that's all." Cynthia smiled as she took a seat.

"More people looking in about George?"

"No, not entirely. Pat, have any men come by from the census bureau or anything else?"

"No."

"No one asking questions?"

"Cynthia, are you sure you're ok."

"It's nothing, just trouble makers I guess."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, forget I said anything. Now, what did you wanna talk about?" Cynthia smiled, leaning her elbows on the table.

Patricia took a deep breath, they'd been friends for a long time, had been through happy times and terrible times— but this was the biggest test of all. Patricia had been devastated after her son David was killed in the explosion. She couldn't see a future, couldn't see a light at the end of the tunnel, and while everyone told her to have faith— she'd felt that waning, too.

And then Cynthia had brought the children back. At first Patricia, along with many other residents, thought it was a miracle. But now she wasn't so sure. She'd chosen to follow a dark path because she knew her son was at the end of it, but now she was afraid she'd failed the most important test of all.

"We have to move on." Patricia began after a moment, bowing her head— she couldn't meet her friend's gaze, not now.

"Move on?"

"I think we made a bad choice, Cynthia, like was failed a test."

"What are you talking about?"

"These children aren't ours, not anymore."

"That's blasphemy."

"No, it isn't. How do you know God gave us these children? Maybe it was a test, maybe we should have turned them away. What if the devil is behind this."

"These are our children you're talking about, Pat, there's no devil in them."

"Our children died a long time again, Cynthia."

"You were the first to follow me when the children came back."

"I know, Cynthia, and I will always be your friend, I'll never leave you behind, and I'll never forget what we've been through. But this chapter of our lives needs to be over— we need to move on."

"Where's this coming from?"

Patricia looked at her friend, the betrayal evident in Cynthia's eyes. A nagging voice had sprung into the back of Patricia's mind the day before, questioning her every motive, whispering her fears. She had no proof the children were given to her by God, had no proof this wasn't a test she was slowly failing. She was desperate to get her children back, and the voice knew that.

It wasn't her own subconscious, wasn't her own fears growing in her— no, the voice was foreign to her ears. But that didn't mean it was wrong.

"The children haven't aged, they haven't grown. I wanted to watch my son get married, to have grandchildren— I want to see the future. But Cynthia, there's no future here."

"And there was a future without them?"

"Yes. Not one person has given birth since rebuilding this town. We're trapped in the moment, literally, and I want to get out."

"So, go." Cynthia shot back, crossing her arms.

"I'm not alone, either. The town met, we've all decided we need to let go."

"You think the children will allow that?"

"Yes, I do. Because they were there as well, Cynthia. We were given a choice all those years ago, and we chose wrong."

"How can choosing our children's lives be wrong?"

"Because the choice was made for the wrong reasons. We weren't choosing life and death, we were choosing our own selfishness over the natural order of things."

"The natural order— children died."

"In an accident, Cynthia. Yes I miss them, everyday I miss them. And yes, I have a child to tuck in at night, to read stories to— but I don't have David, and I haven't since the explosion."

"So you've all decided to take them away from me?"

"Yes, but we can't let them move on without you. We need to let them rest, Cynthia, we need to let them have peace."

"And what am I supposed to do without my baby?" Cynthia sobbed, tears rolling down her face.

Patricia knew Cynthia was slowly seeing reason, slowly coming to grips with the fact that after all these years, after all the fighting, she was finally going to have to say good-bye. "You'll find your path, Cynthia."

"No, Pat, I won't. I have not path without my daughter."

Patricia had tears in her eyes now, her hands gripping those of her long time friend, trying to give her the power to speak, the power she was telling Cynthia she needed. The strength to say good-bye. "Maybe you can ask to go with them." Patricia spoke softly.

"I've done too much damage, they won't have me."

"You'll never know if you don't ask. I don't want to lose you, Cynthia, hell you've been my best friend since I could walk— but if this is what you need to be happy, if this is was it takes to move on, then I want you to be at peace, too. I don't want to be left behind, I don't want to bury anyone else, but I don't want to cause anyone pain, either. If you need to move on, Cynthia, I'll let go."

The two women sat their in strained silence, the coffee shop slowly filling with the parents of New Eden, each one lending their support and their voice. It was time to move on, time to say good-bye. They had to have faith, had to believe all would be right, that life would be what it was meant to be. They had to learn to let go, that no matter how much it hurt sometimes you had to give up what you loved the most for the greater good.

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The Iblis stood across the street from the coffee shop, watching the crowd of parents grow. Faith, it was something the demon never fully understood but something that seemed to drive the human race. They all had faith. Whether it was faith in chaos or faith in salvation— it was still faith. The demon still couldn't believe it had been that easy, that convincing the parents to move on was all it would take to get rid of the Emere.

"No," the demon whispered to itself, it wasn't that easy. His eyes grew stormy as his anger grew— Sam had played him. There was more going on here, more to the Emere, and Sam was working that angle alone. "Stupid kid."

Sam should know better, should know not to mess with a demon. But the boy was head strong to say the least, and the Iblis knew that once the youngest Winchester got an idea in his head, he was gonna run with it no matter what. Sam had harnessed his powers in secret, that was the only explanation, and now the brunette was going to try and use them against the demon.

The Iblis smiled as the parents left the coffee shop, undoubtedly heading toward the old school. If Sam wanted to be a tough guy then who was the Iblis to argue. Besides, the demon had been itching to let loose its full powers for quite some time.


	16. Chapter 16

_hello everyone. well, it's an hour and a half till midnight so i still consider it tuesday. lol. thank you all so much for the great reviews i'm glad you're all enjoying the story. this chapter is a bit long but there was really nowhere to break it. i hope you all enjoy. the last chapter of both the story and the series will be up next tuesday (hopefully)._

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 16

Dean and Bobby walked silently down the sidewalk, neither one really having all that much to say. They were asking a mother to give up her child, Dean understood that. No parent should ever have to watch their child die, it wasn't right, but Rebecca and the others had already died, and the young hunter knew it was time for the children to move on. Nothing good ever came of holding on to the past— Dean had learned that the hard way. He held on dearly to what he had, fought fiercely for the family he loved, for the mother he lost. But when all was said and done, when the day finally turned to night one thing remained the same— yesterday was gone, and it wasn't coming back.

No matter how much Dean fought, no matter what horrors he erased from the world, no matter what wrongs he righted, his mother never returned— and she never would. What was dead was dead and gone, and as much as Dean hated to admit it, he knew it was better if things stayed that way. It was like an adult trying to go home again. Nothing was ever as it once was, and it was the same with the supernatural world. Time changed things, and usually not for the better.

The two hunters stopped dead in their tracts when they turned a corner, their eyes scanning the main street running through New Eden. Every parent was on the street, some hugging, others crying, but all walking, marching toward the bridge and old New Eden.

"What the hell?" Dean breathed, eyeing the scene before him. "You think the kids are controlling them?" Dean asked, turning toward Bobby.

"I don't think so."

"Then what are they doing?"

"I dunno, maybe it's something they have to do to keep the kids around." Bobby offered, shrugging when Dean shot him a look. "I know just as much about this hunt as you do, kid."

"Come on, where's Bobby the answer guru when you need him?"

"On vacation in a perfect world. Where you going?" Bobby asked when Dean started forward.

"I'm following them."

"Dean, we don't know where they're going."

"That would be why I'm following them."

"What if they're all gonna go throw themselves off a bridge?"

"What are you, my mother. I'll stop if I see anyone start to go down."

"Smart ass." Bobby crumbled, following Dean and the crowd of parents.

They stayed a few hundred feet back, but the parents didn't seem to care that they were there. Dean saw a few look back at him, studying the pair of hunters for a moment before turning back toward the crowd. It was weird. The blonde couldn't see the point of the pilgrimage, couldn't understand why the parents wanted to go back to where their children died. But, despite the darkness of the march, not a single person turned back.

The air seemed to change as they walked, as though the earth itself was urging the parents on, guiding them to their ultimate destination. For reasons he didn't understand Dean knew he shouldn't stop them, knew he should let the parents go. Crossing the bridge into Old New Eden was like finding a door hidden in the dark. The old city was different, and Dean was at a loss to explain it. It wasn't bad, not in a dangerous sense at least, it was just different— like finding a secret room beyond the door, or a never before traveled path.

"Dean!"

Dean turned at his name, jumping out of the way when he saw the Impala right behind him. He was so lost in thought, so lost in the mystery of New Eden, he didn't even hear the familiar growl of his beloved car.

"Dad? I thought you were looking for Sam." Dean began, climbing into the back seat as Bobby rode shotgun.

Dean looked around him when, instead of driving, John turned and surveyed him, watching him for longer than Dean thought was necessary. The young hunter shrugged away the awkwardness, slinking down a bit under the scrutiny— it creeped him out when people looked at him like that. "Did I do something?" Dean asked a moment later.

"Listen, Dean, I'm sorry I snapped earlier."

Dean eyed his father, and had the situation not been so dire he would have laughed at Bobby's expression. John Winchester was apologizing, the apocalypse was definitely at hand. "It's ok, Dad."

"No, Dean, it isn't. I've pushed you aside too many times, I've taken you for granted and I'm sorry. I've never forgotten that I have two sons, but I know that I sometimes act like I have. What I said before about Sam being better, I didn't mean it. It's just, I want you to know that I really am proud, even if I never say it."

"Is Sammy ok?" Dean asked, a sudden weight settling on his heart. Why was his father suddenly talking like someone had died?

"I haven't found him yet, but I do know we need to get to him first. But, Dean, what I said, it's directed to you because it needs to be said, not because I'm worried about Sam."

"Uh, thanks, Dad." Dean squirmed in the seat, the Impala suddenly feeling very, very small. And, despite his best effort, a stupid grin slowly broke across Dean's face. Deep down he knew his father cared, well, he thought he knew his father cared. But hearing it, that was something else entirely. The young hunter's smile became full as he looked out the window, a sudden weight lifting from his shoulders. He felt stronger, healthier, more alive than he had in God knows how long. It was truly amazing what a few words could do.

"We done with the moment?" Bobby asked, bringing the men back to the task at hand, though Dean was still beaming.

"For now." John smiled, turning to the mechanic. "What's going on?"

"We have no idea, we were just following them."

"You were following them but you don't know where?"

"Don't look at me, it was Super-Dean's idea."

"Well, it's the best idea we've got, so lets go with it."

"Dad," Dean began a moment later, his now cleared mind settling on the task at hand. He still couldn't believe what his father's words had done to him. How one simple statement chased away the years of jumbled emotions and scenarios running through his mind. "You said we had to get to Sam first, why?"

"One of the Emere came to me, I think it was Rebecca."

"What'd she say?" Dean began, leaning on the back of the seat in front of him. "Did they do something to Sam?"

"No, not yet at least. I know why they're here, though. They're like messengers."

"What's their message?"

"That death isn't something to be afraid of."

"So they're killing people to prove it isn't scary?" Dean asked, his mind turning to his wayward brother.

"They're not the ones killing. They're just here, there's not any real good way to describe it. Rebecca said her mother started getting into the dark arts after she died and Rebecca came back to help her cope with her death. All the kids did."

"Where does Sam come in?"

"They said they're here keeping a balance, keeping the world in check."

"And Sam." Dean pressed, the situation growing more and more dire with each passing moment.

"Is tipping the scales, so to speak. Your brother's powerful, Dean, more powerful than we can guess."

"I've gathered, but that doesn't make him any less Sam."

"I didn't say it did. I'm just telling you what Rebecca told me. They're leaving— but not without Sam."

"What!" Dean jumped forward, not believing what he was hearing. "They can't have him."

"I know they can't, but at the moment we can't find him, Dean. I haven't given up."

"What else did she say?" Dean began, calming himself down— amazed his father hadn't yet yelled. John was talking in a level, cloaked voice, his emotions locked behind his stoney face. He hadn't raised his voice, hadn't turned toward him— and that only made Dean more nervous. John knew something, or was up to something, but whatever it was Dean knew it couldn't be good.

"There's others after Sam. Rebecca promised to take him into the light and keep him safe, it's more than a demon would do."

"So give Sam up to Heaven or take our chances and maybe lose him to Hell?" Dean breathed, the truth crashing into him like a wrecking ball. There was suddenly a very real possibility he'd never see his brother again.

"Pretty much."

"She doesn't know the Winchesters, though." Bobby offered, trying to break the tension.

"Nope, she doesn't." Dean smirked. "I can find him, Dad, I know I can."

"Dean—."

"Dad, I know you're worried about it, but if Sam can manage it I think I can figure out a half-ass version of the projecting thing."

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

"Rebecca said Sam's the tipping point, but he can keep himself hidden."

"Then what's the problem? We get him back then we just drive off, I don't really see the difficulty here." Dean knew he was grasping at straws, but losing his brother just wasn't an option.

"Sam's the tipping point, Dean, but you're their beacon."

Dean's mind flashed back to Shadow Pine Highway, back to the Asura. It had said it could always feel him, always search him out in the darkness. It could feel his pain, feel his emotions, feel his turmoil. And, with a sick realization Dean knew exactly what his father was saying. "They're using me to find Sam, all of them. The Asura, the Trater sisters, even the Iblis. They all used me to get to him."

"It's not your fault, Dean."

"How isn't it my fault, Dad? All my life I've tried to keep the kid safe and now you up and tell me I'm the reason every supernatural badass can find him. What am I supposed to do, Dad?" Dean asked, his soul breaking. "How am I supposed to keep him safe if I can't get near him?"

"We'll figure it out, Dean. We haven't lost him yet."

Dean leaned back in the seat, staring absently out the window. Ever since the Asura had possessed his brother in Montana Dean could sense him, know when the younger man was close. But now, now it was like Sam had fallen off the world, and Dean was afraid the emptiness would last forever. People always said that sometimes you had to give up what you loved the most for the greater good, but Dean had given up everything— and nothing good ever came of it. If he wasn't a big brother, then he was nothing, it was just that simple. Hunting, everything else, it was all second to Sammy, second to his little brother, and now the shaggy haired kid was lost.

They followed slowly behind the parents, not wanting to spook them, though Dean didn't think the presence of the old black car had any effect on the residents. They were on a mission, and they were going to fulfill it. It was slow going, both Bobby and John quiet in the front seat, which just left Dean to his thoughts. He'd lost control of his life and he knew now he'd never get it back. There were just too many variables, too many things at stake. This wasn't a hunt, wasn't something he could shoot or burn. It was now or never, and Dean wasn't sure he was strong enough to fight the darkness alone.

"What the hell?" Bobby breathed from the front seat, bringing Dean back to attention.

Dean leaned on the seat in front of him, following Bobby's line of sight. They were at the school, but they weren't alone. Each and every Emere was standing in the ruins of the old school. They looked like statues, or guardians, their bodies still save for the gentle movement of their hair and clothes in the breeze. All of the children were staring out at the sea of parents, their eyes locked on their elders', faces unreadable. It was creepy.

"What do you think they're doing?" Bobby asked as all three climbed from the car.

"I have no idea." Dean answered, moving toward the nearest set of parents. He watched them for several long seconds, trying to get a feel for what was going on. But, whatever it was was alien to the young hunter. "What's happening?" Dean asked, not sure if anyone would answer.

"We're saying good-bye." The nearest mother answered quietly, tears running down her face. Her husband leaned in, hugging her as her body was rocked by silent sobs.

Dean looked back over the crowd, noticing now how many were hugging, how many were crying. The children had come back to where they died to say a proper and final farewell. Dean felt his heart clench as he looked out over the sea of people, Russell hobbling down the street, embraced by the crowd despite what he had done. After a few tense minutes, the children spoke.

"Having been the ones to go first, we cannot say we know the pain you are suffering." One of the older boys began, his voice like a bell in the oppressive silence. "But we want you to know, that you shouldn't be afraid."

"We still love you, and we still miss you." Rebecca began, standing next to the boy. "But saying good-bye is a natural part of life." At those words Rebecca turned her eyes to Dean, her gaze locking on his. Slowly, she continued, "we're not meant to last forever, to be here for always. We're meant to travel beyond this world, to grow."

"There's a light beyond this life." The boy began again, the woman nearest Cynthia Moss grabbing the other woman's arm. "A place that feels like home, even if it isn't."

"Why?" Cynthia began, crying out over the children's voices as she broke free of the other woman's grasp. "Why didn't God take us, why our children?"

"I can't tell you I know all the answers," Rebecca began, her gaze falling on Cynthia. "On the contrary, I know very little about the paths of fate. All I know is you have to have faith, you have to believe that in the end it'll all work out. Maybe other schools will learn from our tragedy, maybe others will carry on the message of what happened here, save other lives before they're ended too soon. I don't know the reasons, all I know is that sometimes we have to give up what we love the most for the greater good.

"We're here to take what we need and go, but I have one final offer to make." Rebecca's eyes drifted momentarily to Dean before addressing the parents. "While I wish you all full lives, we have opened a door in the dark, and through it, living souls can chose to pass. Anyone wishing to do so may follow us but I warn you, once you step through the door, there is no turning back."

Rebecca turned her back on the crowed, addressing the children with words Dean couldn't hear. Slowly the Emere dispersed, walking toward the burned out remains of the school, each one disappearing into a dull light. They were crossing back over to Heaven. Many parents stood still, watching, hugging, some even waving good-bye. But there were a few, lead by Cynthia Moss, who followed the children, who chose to cross over.

Dean watched the procession, his mind running through everything that had happened over the past year, everything they'd suffered. The Asura, Sam's possession and subsequent powers, his knee, the Traters, the Iblis, Joshua and Marshal Williamson. They'd been deceived by friends, sold out by fellow hunters, all because people were afraid. Some were afraid of the supernatural world's retaliation and some were afraid of Sam's destiny. Either way, all the events of their lives, everything that lead to this moment was born from fear— and Dean was sick of it.

All his life he'd stood up to the darkness, fought monsters others believed to be myth, and he'd never been afraid. But death, the great beyond, losing those he loved— those were things that terrified him. Suddenly the Emere's message became clear to the young hunter. 'Sometimes we have to give up what we love the most for the greater good.' Dean thought she'd meant Sam, but now he wasn't so sure. Dean loved hunting, loved being with his family, love pulling pranks on Sam. Dean loved living, despite its difficulties. But his existence was putting Sam in jeopardy, and Dean knew his brother was destined for great things.

Dean took a step forward, knowing what he had to do. He wasn't afraid, he couldn't explain it but something about the glow of the old ruins drew him closer. He was ready for this.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" John's voice broke through the heavy air as he grabbed Dean's arm. But the middle Winchester knew what he was doing.

"The door's open." Dean smirked, looking between his father and the school.

"So?"

"I'm a liability, Dad, I put you and Sam in danger. This is a way out."

"This is suicide, Dean, that isn't a way out." John growled, shaking Dean.

"Dad—."

"No, Dean, no." John's voice broke, his grip on Dean tightening as he looked into his son's eyes. No parent should ever have to bury a child but Dean had learned from experience that life wasn't always fair.

"But you're gonna let Sam go, I can see it in your eyes."

"No I'm not, Dean. I don't care if I have to tie both of you down, neither one of you is going with those kids." John was staring at him in pure desperation, holding him so tight Dean was sure he'd have bruises.

But Dean just looked past him, looked into the light. He wasn't suicidal, not by any means, but he knew he couldn't be left behind. Rebecca was right, it was suddenly much, much easier to go first.

"John." Rebecca's soft voice floated to them, Dean looking up from his father to the old school. He was surprised to see the parents had dispersed, leaving only the young Emere and the hunters. "Have you made peace, John?"

"Peace with what?" John growled, still refusing to let go of Dean.

"It's time to go, have you made peace with Sam?"

"I haven't found him yet."

The little girl looked puzzled, glancing back behind the trio. "He's been behind you all along."

Dean turned at the statement, his heart racing when he saw his brother step out of the shadow of a nearby building. It was Sam, but not Sam at the same time. He looked older, wiser, different. "Sammy?"

"I don't need you to take my place, Dean. Not anymore."

"I'm not letting you go through that door."

"And I'm not letting either of you go through that door." John answered, moving toward Sam, his vice grip on Dean still strong. John was almost to Sam's side when Dean witnessed the impossible— in the time it took to blink Sam went from their side to the edge of the ruined school.

"I'm sorry."

"Let me come, too." Dean began, knowing he was begging. But it was both or neither, and Dean couldn't handle being left behind.

"No," John broke in, pulling Dean back as the younger man tried to move toward the school. "Sammy, we can beat this."

Dean was in a panic, Sam was moving closer to the light with each passing second and John and now Bobby's death grip was making it impossible for him to follow. "Sammy, please."

"This is something I should have done a long time ago, Dean. You've been hurt too many times because of me, used as a pawn against me. Sometimes we have to give up—."

"Don't you dare say it."

"It's one life, Dean." Sam spoke softly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"But it's your life— it's my only brother's life." Dean sagged against his father, the fight leaving him. He had nothing left to give.

"Dean, no matter what I do, no matter where I go, demons will be on my tail. I know I can fight them off now, but someday I might not be able to. I couldn't live with myself knowing I was the cause of someone else's suffering."

"What about me, Sammy? You're so worried about making someone else suffer? What about me?"

"Dean, I don't want to hurt you, I've never wanted to hurt you, but the things that are after me, they see you as something standing in the way. I can't take that chance."

"So you're just gonna give up?"

"All my life there was one thing I was blessed with, one thing I might have over looked from time to time but always appreciated— and that was being your brother. I know this isn't right or fair, to either of us— but sometimes you have to give up what you love the most for the greater good. You wanted to give up yourself to help me but, Dean, you've got more future than I do."

"That's not true and you know it, Sammy."

"I'v been marked by three demons now, Dean. That's not something I can fight."

"You're right, and it's not something you can run from either." They all turned at the sound of the voice, the Iblis materializing before their eyes. "We had a deal, Sam."

"You." Sam breathed, taking a step closer to the door.

"I wouldn't, Sam, we had a deal and that means no backsies." The Iblis continued, taking a step closer to Dean.

Bobby turned toward the demon, holy water ready, but the Iblis was faster. With a wave of its had both John and Bobby went flying, slamming into the side of the Impala, pinned in place, leaving just Dean, Sam, the Iblis and Rebecca mobile.

"You said you wouldn't hurt him." Sam began, moving toward the demon.

"And you said I could have you, powers and all. Who's backing out on who's deal?" The Iblis shot Dean a hungry look as he advanced. It was obvious now, even if the demon didn't get Sam it would be happy to settle for Dean instead.

"What's he talking about, Sam?" Dean asked, turning to his brother.

Sam was kneeling by Rebecca, whispering something to the girl. She nodded slowly, her eyes locking on his for a moment before he stood. The young girl backed away, silhouetted by the light as Sam rose to his full hight, his eyes dangerous. He took a few steps closer, raising his arms as he approached the Iblis.

"You want my powers, you can have them."

"Sammy, no."

A wind grew up around them, Dean shielding his head as the powers within his brother manifested. The air around him felt charged, like pure electricity was surging all around them, arching over them, encasing them. He could hear his father and Bobby calling out, but it seemed as though they were miles away. Dean slowly lifted his head, debris flying all around the three of them, but not striking. The Iblis was only feet from him, staring down Sam with murder in its eyes. The demon tried to fight back, tried to beat down Sam, but it was no match.

Sam turned to Dean in that moment, his dark eyes full of both acceptance and regret. Dean could feel his heart racing, his mind running into overdrive as the scene before him played out. The winds around them were whipping stronger and stronger, pulling at the younger hunter, sending bits and pieces of debris into his unprotected body, even as Dean remained shielded from the melee. These were Sam's powers, complete and full.

A large wave rippled out over him, like pure energy emitting from his brother. Sam was on his knees now, but the winds didn't die down, and the electricity all around them continued to grow. The energy began to form into blue and white tendrils of pure power, snaking around them like gossamer strings. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Dean could hear the Iblis scream, the demon's smoky form ripped and sliced by the tremendous winds. Sam was literally ripping it apart.

The lights grew brighter still, forcing Dean to shield his eyes. He looked once more into his brother's deep and stormy eyes, knowing time was up. Sam's remorseful gaze fell on him, a small smile telling Dean all he needed to know. With one final burst of light the Iblis was destroyed, and all was silent.


	17. Chapter 17

_well, it has come time for things to end. this is the finale of not only 'a door in the dark' but of the entire Shadow Stalker Series. It's been two years in the making and i want to thank everyone who's read it over the years and stuck with it. it is very strange to leave it behind and even more odd is that it is ending on my birthday of all days. so thank you all once again for all the wonderful reviews and for the support shown for this series.. it truly is humbling. I hope you all enjoy this final chapter. _

_p.s, please read through the whole chapter before jumping to any conclusions. :)_

**A DOOR IN THE DARK**

Chapter 17

Dean stayed crouched down as the winds around him began to lessen, a heavy silence settling over the landscape around him. It was the sound of death, the sound of loss— the sound of nothing. Dean kept his head down, not wanting to see what he knew was in front of him. Sam's powers were strong, too strong for one person to house let alone handle. The fact that they hadn't already eaten the younger man alive was a miracle, but Dean knew their time had finally run out. Sam's powers were deadly, to both those around him and himself. It was a battle both brothers waged, but it was one Dean knew they'd finally lost. They were trying to save each other, to sacrifice for each other but, for some strange reason, the world didn't seem to be big enough for both Winchester brothers.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dean raised his head, his weary eyes taking in the scene around him. Bobby and John were still at the Impala, lost in some kind of trance, held in place by fear rather than the Iblis's power. The school was still a burned out shell of what it had once been, but the light it had been emitting was gone. And, instead of a lanky, shaggy haired nerd of a brother standing in the middle of it all, there was only Sam's body, face down in the rubble. In that instant, Dean's world was destroyed.

He wanted to scream, to cry out to the heavens, to curse anything and everything around him, but he had nothing left, his voice nothing more than a whisper. He was no longer a brother, which made him nothing. Dean pushed himself to his feet, each heartbeat like a stab to his chest. He could feel the tears streaming down his face but he didn't wipe them away. No, every ounce of his strength was being used for one purpose and one purpose only, to get to his dead brother's side.

Dean couldn't believe he'd lost, couldn't believe he'd let the darkness take his little brother. Dean had sworn to protect Sam at any cost, and Sam died protecting him. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair. Dean was supposed to go first, supposed to be struck down in the battle— Sam was supposed to move on, to make something of his life. Dean couldn't help but feel like he'd stolen something from the world as he looked at Sam's broken form. Sam was better than him, smarter than him, he shouldn't have been lost while Dean continued on.

He kneeled slowly by Sam's side, the distant sound of his father and Bobby's footsteps drifting into the corner of his mind. But that didn't matter now, nothing mattered now. All he knew was Sam was dead, gone beyond his reach, and Dean's life no longer held any kind of meaning. He didn't care what everyone said, didn't care if he needed to sacrifice one life to save countless others. Sam's life was never forfeit, was never on the bargaining table— at least not as far as Dean was concerned.

The rubble of the old school cut into Dean's knees as he stayed by his brother's side, his injured leg screaming out in pain. But he didn't care, he couldn't feel anything anymore, couldn't fathom anything beyond the devastation laying in front of him. Dean took a deep breath, a sob breaking through as he reached out for his brother. Sam's skin was pale, his body still— one look at the broken body told Dean he wasn't breathing. The blonde pulled his hand back before reaching his brother, rubbing it on his jeans— he didn't want to do this, didn't want to have Sam's body devoid of life. He wanted the memory of Sam to be healthy, to be living— not broken remains.

Dean took another breath, preparing himself to face the reality in front of him when the unbelievable happened— Sam vanished.

"What the hell?" John's voice broke into the heavy air, the sound hitting Dean like a tidal wave.

Dean still couldn't speak, his mind running a mile a minute but still not comprehending what was going on around him. Sam was there, laying dead before him, where the hell had he gone.

"Dean?"

Dean looked up at the soft voice, his eyes focusing on the person walking toward him— but his mind still refused to believe what was happening. It looked like Sam, sounded like Sam, walked like Sam— but so had the Tulpa. No, Sam was dead, Sam had killed himself destroying the Iblis, Sammy was gone.

"Dean?" Sam asked again, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder, kneeling down exactly were the body had been. That made Dean snap.

"What are you?" Dean asked, his voice ice cold and dangerous.

"It's me, Dean, it's Sam."

"No—."

"It was a plan I had, I'm sorry I couldn't tell anyone."

"You died." Dean began, finally looking into his brother's eyes. He was afraid they'd be like the Tulpa, dark and dead, but these were Sam's brown eyes, Sam's smile— it was Sammy. "How?" Dean asked, his voice breaking, still not reaching out to the younger man.

"I figured out the projecting thing a few weeks ago. I hadn't tried this yet, but I felt like I could do it."

"That was what then, a photocopy Sam?"

"Pretty much." Sam shrugged.

"But, I saw the powers, it killed the Iblis, how?"

Rebecca came up beside them, answering for Sam when the young man bowed his head— Dean's broken state apparently too much for him. "I was wrong."

"What?"

"I can control the powers, Dean." Sam began after a moment, looking his brother in the eye once more. "If I remember why I'm using them, if I can remember what I'm fighting for, I can control them."

"I don't understand."

"Life is about learning, Dean," Rebecca began, her small hand on the back of his neck. "And even angels can learn from time to time. All we saw was power, we never saw the strength it drew from. It is true that sometimes you have to give up what you love the most for the greater good, but Dean, it's also true that sometimes you have to hold on in the face of adversity.

"I underestimated you and your family, and it was a mistake. There's a war coming, and though it may not happen for many years, it's still coming. I didn't understand the balance of power, didn't realize that all strengths are not derived from evil. As long as we remember what's important, we've got all the powers we need to survive."

"So we can keep him?" Dean asked, the Emere's words finally sinking in. He'd been prepared to have Sam stolen from him, he wasn't prepared to have him given back.

"Dude, I'm not a puppy."

At Sam's words Dean finally broke, pulling his younger brother into a hug so tight he was sure he'd bruised the kid's ribs. But he didn't care. He had Sam, safe and whole and nothing was trying to steal him away. The events of the last year fell away as he held onto his brother. The Asura tried, the Traters tried, the Iblis tried, other hunters had tried, hell even angels had tried to steal Sam, to force Dean to accept the loss. And, against all the odds they'd survived, brothers forever.

"I'm so gonna kick your ass." Dean chided, still hugging Sam.

"Dean, man, I'm sorry— I just couldn't take the chance."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, pulling away, he wanted to look Sam in the eye.

"I knew the Iblis could find you. I made a deal and part of it was to not use the cloaking. I couldn't bring you in."

"I could have kept the secret." Dean tried not to sound hurt, tried to stay strong, but he was just so tired of the fight.

"I know, man, that's not what I meant. I couldn't take the chance of the Iblis using you against me. You saw what it did at the end, I wouldn't have been able to make the same decisions if you were here."

"You mean you wouldn't be able to be as reckless." It was the same conversation Dean had had with his father while they were hunting the Yellow Eyed Demon. The statement was true, as much as it hurt, it was easier to do what was needed when love wasn't in the way.

"I wasn't sure I'd survive."

"And the Emere?"

"I spoke to Rebecca again, she gave me the same offer she gave Dad. I told her what I was planning and she agreed to help see it through."

"Why?" Dean asked, turning to the little girl.

"I wanted to see what danger he really was. I'm glad our suspicions were proven wrong."

"So, now what?" Dean asked, his world so badly shaken he wasn't sure he'd be able to piece it back together.

"Now you rest." Rebecca smiled, turning back toward the dull light. "Even in war, there are times of peace."

Dean felt sad when the little girl left. Yes, he knew she was already dead and passing on put her at peace, but she'd taught him a lot in their short time together, and he was grateful. She deserved to have her full life, Dean knew that, but the past was something he couldn't change and he had to learn to accept that.

He felt his father's hands on his shoulders, pulling him up to his feet. Dean felt like he'd been through a tornado, his body aching as the adrenaline left him— but he was alive and so was Sam, and that was all he needed. He was still a brother, and he knew now that even in the darkness hours, faith and family could still shine through.

666666666666

Sam sat on the hood of the Impala, staring out over the parking lot of the motel toward New New Eden. Russell had been one of the few who chose to go with the children through the door, leaving his motel empty— the Winchester's its final residents. Time was strange like that. Living was like leaving a footprint in the sand. Everyone left their mark on the world, whether they were eight or eighty, whether they were righteous or evil— everyone left a mark. Sam looked down at his hands, wondering what his ultimate mark on the world would be. He could feel the power running through his veins, could feel it every time his heart beat. It was born of evil— he knew that for certain.

But that was the power, that wasn't him. He was Sam, Mary and John's son, Dean's brother— he himself was born of love and that was the ultimate tipping point. Love was something the Asura didn't understand, something the Iblis used as a weapon, and something the other hunters had lost long before— but it was something Sam held onto dearly. He fought for those he loved, his every action and decision made with those he cared about in mind. It was just who he was.

He let out a long breath. He'd been so afraid of what he might become, so afraid he'd fall to evil no matter what he did, that he'd overlooked the most basic part of his soul— the strength with which he care. He wasn't evil. He was more than just a ball of power, more than a child touched by demons, he was Sam Winchester, and he was a good man.

"You alright out here?" Dean's voice broke the heavy silence, the older man sliding onto the hood beside Sam.

"Yeah, I'm good. Dad and Bobby?" His father and Bobby hadn't said much since the incident at the school. Bobby had tried, but he just ended up stumbling over his words before sulking off, mumbling beneath his breath. Sam had to smile— it wasn't often Bobby was speechless.

John, he was another story. Their father had become quiet, withdrawn, and Sam didn't know how to take it. He had a strange look in his eyes every time he looked at Sam, the same look he got when someone mentioned Mom. Sam tried not to let it effect him, tried to push his unease away, but he couldn't. His father looked at him like he was lost.

"Bobby's heading back home. Dad said he got a lead on the Yellow Eyed Demon, he's heading out in a few."

"Just like that?" Sam asked, turning toward Dean. Sam knew Bobby was going to head out, but he thought his father would stay around. After all, he'd nearly died.

"It's not you, Sammy, you know how Dad gets. When he doesn't understand something he—."

"Runs away."

"Not runs away, he kind of takes time off from the situation."

"How is that different?"

"Because he's not leaving you behind— he's just gotta figure this out his own way."

"Since when did you become the relationships expert?" Sam smirked, finding comfort in the fact that Dean was by his side.

"I've learned a lot in my old age, young jedi."

"Star Wars, Dean?"

"Some day you'll learn that anything worth knowing comes from a movie. I mean, the stuff I learned from por—."

"Dean, I don't need to hear that."

Dean smiled, bumping his shoulder with Sam's. "So seriously, Dude, how're doing?"

"Ok I guess, considering. Dean—."

"Sam, you can't keep beating yourself up about these powers." Dean broke in, knowing where Sam was going.

"I almost killed you with them, Dean, three times."

"Almost doesn't count. I'm fine, and it wasn't you."

"Yes it was."

"Yeah, it was you, but it wasn't….. You." Dean tried, shrugging at his own strange statement.

"Deep."

"Cut me some slack, I'm not good at all the chick flicky stuff. So, uh, how're you feeling?"

"Feeling?"

"I mean, does it hurt?"

"The powers, nah. Kind of feels a little bit like 'oh no I just drank five pots of coffee'."

"And you don't feel like its gonna, you know, lurch out of you."

"It's not an alien."

"You're not really helping."

"Yeah," Sam smiled, nudging his now sulky brother back, "but you're helping me. Dean, I felt like I was drowning. No matter what I did, no matter where I turned, people still got hurt. I mean, I nearly killed you when I was possessed in Montana, Dad couldn't get past my powers when the Trater sisters had you, and then I lost it after your knee surgery. It was just one thing after another. I kept spiraling and the bad guys just kept coming and I didn't know what to do." Sam bowed his head, resting his face in his hands. He was just so tired of it all.

"Hey," Dean began, cupping the back of Sam's neck. "None of that was your fault. You held on, Sammy. You took something that would destroy anyone else and you harnessed it."

"But now I can't ever get rid of it."

"You couldn't get rid of the powers before you used them, either. Look, Sam, I know it's scary and I know it's hard— but you can survive this."

"How, I mean it's like I have a disease."

"Or a handicap?"

"I just wish things were like they used to be. I just wish living wasn't so hard."

"I know you may not be able to see a silver lining yet, Sam, but I'm telling you you'll survive this. This isn't going to destroy you."

"How do you know? I mean, I feel like I have control but what if some demon finds a way to control me, or I get possessed again?"

"Well, the possession thing I have the perfect answer." Dean smirked, pulling a sketch out of his pocket. "Tattoos."

"Tattoos?"

"Yeah, I mean, unless you're too girly to deal with the pain."

"Ok, so possession's solved. But, Dean—."

"No buts, Sam. This isn't going to destroy you." Dean enunciated every word, staring Sam in the eyes as he spoke.

"How do you know?"

"Because I won't let it. You were there for me when I couldn't walk, after the Asura ripped me up. I'm not gonna turn my back on you because you changed, because a hunt left its mark. Look, Sam, I've been thinking. We need to step back."

"Step back from what?"

"Dad's crusade. I don't know what Yellow Eyes is planning or if there's a big bad going down, but it can't be our problem, not right now."

"You wanna quit hunting?" Sam asked, eyeing his brother. It was something he never thought he'd hear the older man say.

"No, we can still hunt, just— stay away from the big 'wanna kill the Winchesters' stuff. Just take a break."

Sam stared at his brother, understanding the lifeline the older man was throwing him. The Asura, the Iblis, and probably the Yellow Eyed Demon were all after his power, hunting him— but he could shield himself from them, shield Dean from them. They could step away from the growing war. It would be a chance to regroup and chance to recover— a chance to be brothers again.

Since Dean returned to his life their bond had been constantly pushed aside. First it was because of Jessica's death and Dad's departure, then the Yellow Eyed Demon had returned and nearly killed them all. And a few short months after the car accident they were faced with the Asura. Sam and Dean hadn't had time to be brothers.

Sam smiled, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. The air around him seemed lighter, the sky brighter and as his contentment grew he could feel the electric energy of his powers lessen. Sam knew that someday they would be drawn back into the brewing war, probably leading the charge, standing at the forefront. But now, now it wasn't time to fight, wasn't time to lead— no, now it was time to be brothers while they still could.

--the end--

_once again, thank you all so much for being here for me during this series!!! _


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